


A Static Relationship

by JaneDoh7



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDoh7/pseuds/JaneDoh7
Summary: After graduating the Academy, Fitz and Simmons have fallen into a comforting yet monotonous routine of familiarity at SciOps. So when the two geniuses are offered an exciting job opportunity by Coulson, Simmons convinces her best friend to join her on their next adventure. But will one cold winter’s night change everything?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In order to not ruin whether this story remains canon-compliant, or delves into AU, I have left it unrated. I may change the rating once the story is complete.
> 
> Thanks to Stormkpr (@jemleofan on Tumblr) for her awesome beta skills and encouragement.  
> Thanks memorizingthedigitsofpi for creating the manip I requested when I had the first inklings of an idea for this story. Whenever I got writer's block, I would look at it for inspiration.
> 
> (I'm not sure how to post it here, so the manip can be seen on my Tumblr if you are interetsed: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/janedoh1)

“We can’t leave just yet, Fitz, it would be rude,” Simmons said to her best friend as he leaned against the wall near the exit. She took a sip of his beer and then handed it back, wiping the condensation from the glass on her slacks.

“It’s not like it’s _our_ going away party,” he pointed out. SciOps did tend to have quite a high number of employees who eventually transferred to The Hub, so these types of parties weren’t that uncommon. Although it basically seemed like an excuse for the agents to drink ample amounts of alcohol and shirk their normally responsible personas for a night.

“I know, but it soon will be, and then no-one would turn up when _we_ have a farewell party. And, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She saw Fitz cock his head to the side, and she realised that he would probably welcome the idea. He started opening his mouth, and she just _knew_ it was to say something to that effect, so she hastily added: “Don’t answer that.”

Only three days had passed since she had convinced him to take up the opportunity to join Coulson’s team with her. And they both knew that being hand-picked by a man who was - by all accounts - dead, was a big deal. Fitz’s brow had been furrowed in concern at first, and it had taken a fair amount of coaxing and reassurance for him to embrace the idea. Well, more like accept the idea. Actually, when she thought about it, it seemed as though he merely relented when he considered being left behind without her.

“We have known the twins since the Academy. We can’t exactly just disappear without congratulating them and saying goodbye.”

“I already did,” Fitz said. “Congratulated them, I mean. Not said goodbye.”

“What? When?”

“When you were in the bathroom.”

She gave him an incredulous stare. “That only took me, like, three minutes.”

“Yeah, what’s your point?” He truly looked baffled by her statement.

She rolled her eyes. Honestly, how he navigated conversing with people outside the lab environment, she had no idea.

“Well, I haven’t had a chance to talk to them all night.” She looked over to where Melody and Maeve were standing with a cohort of guys around them. They were known to be quite… _gregarious._ She saw the group laugh at something one of them had said. And then the twins unanimously turned and headed towards the bartender.

“Come on, we should go and talk to them now while we have a chance.”

Fitz shook his head, wide eye. “Uh uh. I’ve done my bit.” He glanced over at the blaze of red hair that flowed behind the two girls as they bounced their way over to the bar. “It’s like those two are psychically linked or something. They just give each other a look and then proceed to find some way to make fun of me.”

Simmons looked at him with understanding. She knew that the remarks were only ever in jest, but Fitz was a sensitive soul and took a lot of it to heart. Everyone knew Fitz was shy, but the twins particularly liked to give him a good ribbing. After all, they had known him since he was sixteen, and had watched him go through his awkward teenage years.

Which actually just continued on to be awkward early-twenties.

She took pity on him. “How about you go and talk to Sebastian for a while? I heard his team has been making some great developments in virtual reality. You could see if there might be any applications for the D.W.A.R.F.s?” She dropped her voice a little lower, not wanting anyone else to inadvertently learn about their imminent transfer until the details had been finalised. “It _would_ be good to join Coulson’s team with some more innovative ideas.”

She could see his curiosity pique. His eyes slid sideways to where his colleagues were standing, then back to Simmons. He had pretty much shadowed her for the whole party. Not that she really minded. But she had to push him at times to converse with their workmates, even if he found their intellect lacking compared to hers.

“Okay. But how much longer?” His expression was pleading, accentuated by a pout. “Remember we _had_ already planned our stargazing night two months before this party was even mentioned.”

“As a matter-of-fact, I do recall, seeing _I_ was the one to suggest it.” She found it quite amusing that Fitz was eager to leave the party, when it was the Geminid meteor shower they were planning on viewing. He was effectively avoiding seeing one set of twins, only to view another. “The stars aren’t going anywhere, Fitz.”

“I know.” She couldn’t tell if he had taken her words as condescending, but then he chewed the inside of his lip and his tone deepened. “But I have just been looking forward to it.”

“Not too much longer, I promise.”  Her eyes softened, but she tried to reason with him. “You do realise that the later we get there, the more easily the meteors will be visible, right?”

His only response was a huff. He downed the remainder of the beer he had been nursing for most of the night and plonked the empty glass on the table.

She knew she had him beat with logic. However, she didn’t dare let on that she also would much rather be staring at nature’s light show with him than making small talk at a party. In fact, since the two of them had decided to leave SciOps, she had found his company even more welcoming than usual. She couldn’t tell if it was the two of them clinging to familiarity, or the idea of a shared adventure that bonded them even closer. But, if she left it to Fitz, they would never interact with _anyone_ outside of the lab.  

“Fine,” he agreed. “But just take into account that it will take me a while to navigate out of the damn city. You know I still find it hard to adjust to driving on the wrong side of the road here.”

“Fitz, you have to stop calling it the ‘wrong side’ of the road. You know it just gets you into arguments.” She gave him a sincere stare, knowing how stubborn he could be at times, and how much it irked others.

He waved offhandedly at her as he ambled off towards Sebastian and a couple of older agents who worked in the IT branch.

Simmons hurried over to the bar, hoping to catch her fellow alumni before they once again disappeared into the crowd. She ordered a gin and tonic and spent the next few minutes discussing the twins’ plans for the future at The Hub. They were both very animated in their descriptions and she appreciated their enthusiasm. They weren’t firm friends, but Simmons was going to miss their bubbly personalities. It was hard to restrain her own excitement about her and Fitz’s new venture, but they were under strict orders to keep the news secret.

It hit her in that moment how much was changing for all of them, and she couldn’t help but glance over at Fitz. He actually had a smile on his face. It was nice to see. He must have found some area of technology to ramble about, because he was waving his hands around quite emphatically. And seeing him somewhat relaxed made her smile as well.

She was pulled from her reverie when she noticed Melody tilting sideways, until she was intruding on Simmons’ line of sight to Fitz.

“So you and Fitz are going to go stargazing?” she asked.

“Oh, he told you, did he?” She blinked a few times then turned her attention back to the twins.

“More like mumbled. I couldn’t really catch everything he said because after he said hello, he stared at his feet for the rest of the conversation.”

“We tried to get more info out of him, but as soon as he saw you emerge from the bathroom, it was like we didn’t exist,” Maeve added.

“I’m sure it’s not like that,” Simmons said. “You two are quite the intimidating pair. It’s just that you make him nervous.”

“Us?” they said in unison, hands on hearts as though they were the most demure pair anyone could meet. And then they laughed.

“But it is just so much fun watching him blush at the slightest euphemism. I’ve never met anyone so shy in my whole life,” Melody said.

The three of them looked over to where the IT crowd were standing. The four men standing around Fitz actually seemed enthralled with whatever he was rabbiting on about. Simmons was pleased to see him being the centre of the conversation; science or technology seemed to be the catalyst that allowed his genius to override his self-consciousness.

“He is brilliant, though. I’ll give him that,” Maeve acknowledged.

“Yeah,” Simmons affirmed, a smile tweaking the corner of her lip as she saw his mass of curls bouncing slightly as he shuffled from foot to foot, “he is.” She wanted to add: and loyal, and determined, and thoughtful, and honourable, but she knew her claims would go unappreciated.

The bartender interrupted the trio to slide Maeve’s vodka towards her.

“So, you’re willing to give up the comfort of a warm bar and…” Melody took a swig of the whiskey in her short glass, letting out a controlled breath as the burning liquid made its way down her oesophagus, “… even warmer alcohol, to sit out in the cold night air? With Fitz?”

Simmons could understand the discomfort at the cold part; it was the start of winter, so the nights were getting quite chilly. But the idea of sharing it with Fitz was rather appealing. Very appealing, if she was honest with herself.

“Well, I _had_ promised him I would take him to see the next good meteor shower months ago.” Simmons didn’t like breaking promises. Pretty much everyone knew she was true to her word. So she was sure that statement alone would be enough of an explanation.

It was redundant to add that she had also been looking forward to that night for weeks and her excitement had been compounding the more that Fitz seemed to bring up the issue. Mentioning that she would rather be there now would just be impolite.

“I’m joking,” Melody said, when she saw the flustered look on Simmons’ face. “I heard the meteor shower is pretty spectacular this year.”

“And the Geminids shower is like the universe celebrating twins.” Maeve clinked her glass against her sister’s. “It sounds like a highly appropriate acknowledgement of our promotion.”

Simmons was relieved that they weren’t too disappointed that her and Fitz would be leaving early.

She was just taking another sip of her gin, when suddenly, Fitz appeared beside her. He was leaning towards her slightly, his words a little quieter than usual. “We should get going.” He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and gave the twins a weak smile of acknowledgement. It was as though he didn’t want to interrupt, but just couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “You know it’s going to take me over an hour.”

She knew he was nervous about driving through the bustling city, but he would surely relax once they got closer to the less populated areas that lay to the east. “I know, but it will be worth it.” Although she was looking at him, she caught the twins giving each other a knowing smirk.

“So you’ll be driving Simmons tonight, will you, Fitz?” Melody bit her lip as soon as the words had left her mouth, trying to suppress a giggle.

Simmons could see Fitz cheeks starting to turn pink so she did her best to help him escape. “How about you go and start the car? I’ll be there in a minute.”

Fitz merely nodded in relief. He quickly mumbled goodbye to the O’Sheas and then made his way to the exit, shoulders hunched. Sometimes Simmons couldn’t understand why someone so brilliant lacked so much confidence.

“He is a strange one,” Maeve commented. “I’m still surprised he even came to the party.”

“It’s because she’s got him wrapped around her little finger,” Melody said to her sister, holding her glass in Simmons’ general direction. Then she turned her attention back to Simmons and added: “He’d go wherever you go.”

Simmons suddenly felt a bit bashful; the comment was closer to the truth than she would have previously given credence to, in light of their newfound career path. And she now felt a bit silly that it seemed so obvious to others. She wasn’t used to having parts of her life that she didn’t fully understand.

Previously, she would have dismissed the remark with a jovial shake of her head and assured them that they were just good friends, and friends liked to hang out together. But now she wasn’t sure she could pull off the act quite as convincingly. She would _have_ to get better at lying when she finally got out in the field.

She decided her best course of action was to ignore the statement all together. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She shot back the inch of gin and tonic she had left and carefully placed the empty glass on top of the bar.

“Bright and early,” Melody said with a smile.

Maeve downed the remaining liquid in her glass and flung a look at her twin. “Early, yes,” she agreed, then shifted her stare to Simmons and grinned at her, “bright, not so much.”

Simmons laughed as she started backing away. “Sorry we can’t hang around longer.” She turned and took a few steps, and just as she reached the door she heard one of them shout, loud enough for half the partygoers to hear.

“Hey, I’d be leaving the party early too if a guy just said to me that he was going to take an hour and I’d see stars at the end of it!”

Simmons felt the blush creep up her cheeks at her colleagues’ sniggers, even if they were laughing good-naturedly. She looked over at the twins as she turned the door handle, eyes wide as though berating them for being so crass. Both of them seemed to disregard her embarrassment, instead giving her a thumbs up sign. She rolled her eyes with a smile and pushed through the door.

Despite her and Fitz having been at SciOps for a few years, their former classmates still seemed to fuel the perpetual rumour that they were more than just friends. Simmons had thought she was used to the remarks, but tonight, she could still feel her heart rate elevated in response. Fitz would have been mortified; she was glad he had already gone to the car.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath of the dry winter air. She found herself wondering if it was such an outlandish idea after all; her and Fitz. Her mind skipped back to the look of solidarity he had given her, when he finally said yes to her proposition of taking up Coulson’s offer. And when she had enthusiastically crushed herself against him and assured him it would be an exciting opportunity for them, his hug had been equally firm in response.

She tried to rationalise her feelings by blaming a lack of romantic options lately, compounded by the buzz of alcohol. But she had only had three drinks all night. It was hardly enough for her to throw caution to the wind.

She was stirred from her musings when she heard the brief toot of a horn. She looked up to see Fitz flashing the high beam on and off and grinning at her excitedly. She stood for a moment, dazed by the bright lights until he finally stopped. She squinted for a moment, and when she looked back in his direction, there were black spots dancing around him where the lights had burned into her retinas.

She could just make out his genuine smile and his fingers curling at her in a coaxing manner, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. And she couldn’t deny that the rush of adrenalin she felt was due to the anticipation of spending the night under the stars with him.

She hurried over to car. They had been friends for so long; _best friends_. But as Simmons opened the door, and saw the eager look in his eye, she wondered if maybe it was more than just that.


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz had come to the conclusion that driving wasn’t so bad, when Simmons was beside him. He glanced over and saw her head tucked against her shoulder as she rested against the doorframe. She had helped him navigate until they had reached the outer limits of the city, and now he wasn’t sure if she was taking the opportunity to doze until they reached their destination. She usually got a bit sleepy after drinking, and he preferred to let her recharge some energy now so that she was more alert once they arrived.

He drove in silence, enjoying the open road as the glow of the city faded behind them. He was glad he could now see a smattering of stars to break up the fathomless blackness that lay ahead. The darkness was punctuated at times by headlights coming from the opposite direction, and each time he couldn’t help but look over at Simmons as the lights briefly illuminated her features. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering slightly. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was dreaming, or in reaction to the light. He was just pleased she looked so peaceful and contented.

She had been so excited when they had learned of the offer to join Coulson’s new team. His initial reaction was one of trepidation; a new work environment, new colleagues, travelling to undisclosed destinations… not to mention possibly having to go out into the field. Apparently their minds were so sought after that the fact they hadn’t passed their field assessments had been notably overlooked.

Even now, the memory of the initial news had his heart rate elevating and his hands feeling clammy. Fitz wasn’t a fan of change, and accepting such an offer was an _enormous_ change. He still felt anxious about it now, but - just as had happened at the time - when he looked at Simmons, and realised that the journey would be with her, he felt uncharacteristically calm. Like _not_ joining her wasn’t even an option.

He had always admired her; he respected her independent nature, was grateful for her friendship, and was enthralled with her intelligence. So when he faced that crossroad: to continue in the safety and familiarity of routine, alone, or explore an unknown and daring world of possibilities by her side, it seemed unfathomable to choose any option where they weren’t together.

He glanced at her as a truck approached them, and saw her tongue unconsciously sweep over her bottom lip to moisten it against the dry winter night. He couldn’t help but focus on the light reflecting off her lips for the briefest moment, before the truck whizzed past and the cabin of the car was thrown back into darkness.

He wondered what might have happened if he had said no. Would she leave him to go on her so-called adventure alone? Or did the significance of their friendship bind her as strongly? He realised he was imagining a situation that would never happen, because he had come to the undeniable truth: he would go wherever she went.

He was almost glad she continued resting for the remainder of the journey, because he was worried that if they began talking in the safety of darkness, some irrevocable truths might be revealed.

The trip seemed to take longer than he had anticipated, and he was concerned he may have missed their exit, until he saw the sign indicating the national park was four miles away. He pulled off the highway and weaved down the adjoining road.

He waited a few minutes to see if Simmons reacted to the change in speed of the car. She remained blissfully unresponsive. “Simmons?” he half-whispered.

“I’m not asleep, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, groggily. He smiled; he was pretty sure she had been up until that point. Even now, under the faint moonlight, he could see her eyes were still closed.

“Well, that’s good,” he said, as he pulled off the road and onto the grass that bordered the park, “because we’re here.”

“What?” Simmons blurted out, rather surprised as she shifted upright in her seat and peered out the window, bleary-eyed. “Already?”

_Yep, she had definitely been asleep,_ Fitz decided. He parked the car, and turned the headlights off.

They had worked out how far they needed to travel to minimise the light pollution and wanted somewhere that had as much open space as possible. They had researched potential locations on Google Maps, but the photos had not done it justice.

“Oh my, Fitz,” Simmons said, her tone almost mystical, “it’s beautiful.”

There was an expansive lake that lay to the south that reflected the cloudless sky, making it appear twice as large as usual. Each time the slight winter breeze blew, it sent the watery lights dancing in a flurry, before settling back to copy their skyward counterparts. The only mountains that were visible were far off to the east, and the pine trees that surrounded the lake did little to obstruct the view.

The moon was in its last quarter and hung low on the western horizon. A new moon would have been ideal, but when Fitz observed the way it accentuated Simmons’ profile as she gazed in wonder, he welcomed its presence.

And then she turned to him. “These conditions are amazing!” A broad grin lit up her face, as she put on her grey jacket over her blouse. She pulled out the elastic that held up her ponytail, then shoved a pale blue beanie over her head to somewhat tame the wayward locks. “Well, apart from the moonlight, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Fitz grabbed both blankets that Simmons had left on the backseat, then hauled one of them into her lap and kept the other for himself. They each shoved a blanket under their armpit and started walking towards the lake, using the flashlight on their phones for extra illumination.

“Phwoar, it has to be, like… ten degrees,” Fitz lamented, rubbing his hands together.

He was happy he didn’t have to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit when he was with her. Doing the math for his American counterparts got quite monotonous at times.

“I thought Scots could handle the cold.”

“I’m not from the bloody Highlands, Simmons.” He threw his hands up in accentuation. “And Sheffield is only a few hours from Glasgow. By American standards, we were practically neighbours,” he pointed out. “So we should theoretically be as acclimated as each other.”

“Fine,” Simmons relented. “Then at least you won’t bemoan me for feeling cold either.”

Before the grassed area morphed into more rocky terrain, Jemma halted. “I think here should be perfect.” She was gazing over the shimmering lake whose edge was several metres away.

Fitz couldn’t help but stare at her for a few moments, besotted by the way she stared at the sky with such fascination. But just as she turned towards him, he quickly turned his back to her, and placed his blanket on the ground. He was suddenly disappointed that they had a blanket each. _Damn your preparedness, Simmons,_ he lamented.

He plopped himself down in the middle of the blanket.

“Do you want to maybe spread your arms and legs out so you take up the _whole_ blanket?” Simmons asked. He looked up at her just in time to see her roll her eyes. “Shuffle over!”

Fitz shifted his backside towards the far edge and Simmons settled down next to him. She then extricated the blanket from under her arm and placed it over their legs. They weren’t close enough that they were touching, but - on the small patch of skin that was exposed from where his cardigan sleeve was bunched - Fitz felt the hairs on his forearm gravitating towards her.

Fitz reassessed the situation. _Praise your preparedness, Simmons._

They were sitting side by side, peering over the lake. They switched off the flashlight function on their phones. The abrupt lack of light, compounded with the after-burn of the phone’s screen on his retinas meant Fitz couldn’t see anything. Well, except for bright streaks dancing in his vision.

The blanket that lay over their lower halves grazed against his trousers as Simmons shifted position beside him. He couldn’t see her, but the tingling sensation that still lingered in his forearm indicated she was very close.

“Comfy?” Her words were closer to his ear than he had expected, and he felt the slightest puff of warm air against his ear, clearly noticeable in contrast to the frosty nips of the winter breeze.

He swallowed deeply and turned towards the direction of the sound. He could see the crescent moon behind her, silhouetting her frame. “Very.”

“Good. Me too.” Her words faded in the darkness. A few moments of amicable silence followed, before she spoke again. “Fitz?”

“Yeah?” He blinked a few times, and he could just start to make the outline of her face, merging into the beanie with the puffy pompom on top.

“I’m really glad we got a chance to do this before we leave SciOps.” Her voice started to get quieter, as though insecurity was creeping in. “I mean, who knows how things will change for us, once we join Coulson?”

It took a while for Fitz to answer, because he knew just how significant the move was for them and he didn’t want her to start questioning their decision. “SciOps was a big change from the Academy too, but we adjusted to that just fine.”

“I know. I just…” Simmons sighed before continuing. “I just want to make sure this is what you really want too. I don’t want to feel like I pushed you into this.”

“Simmons, you know I don’t like change. I need you to give me that push at times. Even if I scowl at you.” They both smiled at the thought, even though the other couldn’t see it.  “I think we both realise that our lives won’t be the same in a few weeks. And I can’t deny that at times I am terrified when I think about it.” He knew she was looking at him, even if he could barely see her. “But, we will be doing it together. Like always. And that is one thing that I don’t ever want to change.”

“I feel the same. I know there will be risks involved when we start this adventure, but I don’t want that to jeopardise our friendship.”

“I can’t foresee any situation that would make me not want to be friends with you.” He wanted to say so much more than that. He almost built up the courage to elaborate, but a wistful sigh reminded him of just how close she was, and he shyly reneged. “How about we just forget about the future for a while, and stare at the past,” he suggested. The thought that the light emanating from the stars above was really a glimpse into history was still a concept that fascinated him.

“Okay.” She let out a controlled breath. Fitz wasn’t sure if it was out of relief or gratitude. But his words must have affected her, because when she spoke, she seemed more relaxed. “Can I make a suggestion that might make this better?”

“Sure.” His eyes were just starting to make out her features. Was she purposefully looking at his lips, or were her eyes just naturally drawn there, because that is where the sound had emanated from? Could she see him in greater detail because the moon was over her shoulder? The thought made him self-conscious; that he could only just make out her reactions yet she was able to see his more clearly.

“Lie down,” she instructed. “And close your eyes.”

He looked at her questioningly for a moment, then did so, hearing her shuffle slightly beside him.

He felt vulnerable; lying still and robbed of sight, wondering what she was doing, but then he could feel the pull of the blanket as she shifted position.

All he could hear was the wind, weaving through the surrounding foliage.

And her breathing.

And then his pulse, rushing through his inner ear. He was sure each of her breaths were getting closer to him.

He gulped. “Am I still keeping them closed?”

“Yes!” she said, as though all matter of unpleasantries might befall him if he disobeyed. And the sound was _definitely_ closer to his ear than it had been previously.

He tried to calm his own breathing and wait patiently. But his mind kept conjuring images of her face, inches from his own. Even though, in reality, only a few moments had passed, it felt like an eternity. His anxiety was getting the better of him, until he couldn’t help but squeak out: “Why?”

He heard her take a deep breath and his lips suddenly felt dry. His tongue just started to poke out to moisten them, but then he hastily retracted it before it could complete the action. What if Simmons was just about to kiss him, and he inadvertently brushed against her lips instead?

“Because your eyes will adjust to the dimness more rapidly if you close them for a while. And when you open them, try to not look at the moon.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if he was relieved, or disappointed.

He didn’t know what ‘a while’ actually encompassed. He was unable to refrain from cautiously opening one eye. He was staring up at the star spotted sky, with no sense of depth. And then he looked sideways, and realised that Simmons was lying next to him in an identical pose. He could only see one side of her face, but the change in angle meant that the moonlight now bathed her skin, her cheekbone and nose and jaw curving like perfectly crafted porcelain.  Fitz knew he often took things too literally, but maybe this was what the phrase ‘seeing someone in a different light’ actually meant.

The flood of hormones the image sent coursing through his body confirmed his response had been due to disappointment. He blatantly disobeyed her suggestion, his head twisting to the side until he could look at her with both eyes. She looked… stunning; an image of perfection under the subtle glow of the moon. She must have felt his breath flood over her cheek because her eyelids sprung open before he had a chance to resume his previous position.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she slowly turned to him and Fitz was suddenly aware that her lips were just inches from his. Her brow furrowed as she stared into his bewildered eyes.

He held his breath, as though the mere act of breathing in such close proximity would be breaching her personal space. Her eyes swept down to his lips, lingering for the briefest moment before returning to his eyes. She held his gaze a beat longer than seemed warranted. “You are so damn impatient at times.” She rolled her eyes with a smile and sighed, then twisted her head until it was facing the sky once more. “We will still be able to see the meteors, but it should get better the longer we wait,” she added.

Fitz released his breath. He couldn’t help but think what might have happened if he had had the courage to close that gap that separated their lips, but it was irrelevant now. However, he didn’t mind the thought of spending longer with Simmons. Her hands were clasped atop her ribcage and he could see them rising slightly each time she took a breath.

“Oh, did you see that one?” Simmons asked, pointing towards the south-west. “Near Orion’s Belt.”

“I missed it,” Fitz admitted and turned his attention towards the distinctive group of stars.

“Orion used to be my favourite constellation,” Simmons said. “When my father started teaching me about the stars, it was the first one I could recognise.”

“Sounds like a much more exciting childhood than mine.”

“Well, hours on end spent having to lie down and recover from spinal surgery wasn’t exactly fun. But that time spent with Dad was a nice distraction.”

“You were lucky you had a father who wanted to teach you things.”

“Oh Fitz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” Fitz interrupted. He honestly understood how important an involved parent was for an intellect as advanced as hers. He hadn’t meant for her to interpret it as him begrudging his own lack of a father figure. “I am happy for you; that you had someone to pass that knowledge on.” He scratched the side of his chin. “I mean, it benefits me as well because now I get to learn about it too.”

She gave him an incredulous stare. “Fitz, you know more about space than any other person I know.”

“Different parts though,” he admitted. “The constellations are your forte.” He shifted the blanket a little higher against the encroaching night air. “What else did he show you?”

Simmons pointed out some of the brightest stars and recited their names, and which ones helped for navigation. Every now and then, a meteor would streak across the sky, and she would pause mid-sentence, still captivated every single time.

Fitz was thankful he had a friend who appreciated astronomy as much as he did. But, in this area of science, she was much more knowledgeable than he was. Luckily she liked talking about it just as much as he liked listening. Who needed books when you had the sky as your shifting canvas, and Simmons’ dulcet tones explaining its wonders?

She even knew some of the Messier objects, but only a few were obvious because the conditions weren’t ideal. He smiled, when she used the phrase. He was miles from civilization, watching nature put on a light show and lying beside the most amazing woman in the galaxy. If you asked him, the conditions were pretty damn _perfect_.

Well, apart from the cold. _That_ he could do without. He clasped his hands together beneath the blanket.

“Next time, we should bring a telescope,” Fitz suggested. “I would love to see some of the nebulas.”

“Who knows where we will even _be_ next time we have a chance to do this? We could be somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, and the constellations will look upside down.” He could see her head tilting at different angles as she spoke. “I can only imagine how strange that will feel.”

They both fell silent for a while. Fitz was trying to picture looking up at the same sky from a different perspective. And then he remembered something she had started discussing earlier, before going off on a tangent.

“Hey, Simmons.”

“Yeah?”

“You said that Orion _used_ to be your favourite constellation,” Fitz recalled. He turned to her with a curious furrow to his brow. “Which one is now?”

She was still looking at the sky. She hesitated, and bit her bottom lip. She almost looked like she was still contemplating her answer. But then she twisted her head until she was looking directly at him. “Leo.”   


	3. Chapter 3

At first, Fitz didn’t respond to Simmons’ statement. She started to think that maybe he was just shocked at hearing his name tumble from her mouth, and his brain was taking a while to remind him that Leo was in fact a constellation, and she had not just suddenly decided she was going to start using his given name.

“Oh.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. She couldn’t decipher his reaction. “Really?”

“Uh huh.” She wasn’t sure if the insinuation made him feel awkward. But there was no use in making up an answer; Fitz would have seen through the lie. Anyway, she couldn’t take it back now, and it was the truth. Leo _was_ her favourite constellation, for a few years now.

After they finished their first year at the Academy, they each went home for the holidays. They had been apart for short periods during the year, but the extended break was the first time she realised just how much she missed him. And, when she had the chance to travel to the more rural parts of England, she liked the thought that she could look up and see Leo in the sky, even if she never used that name for him. It was comforting to know that wherever she was in the world, he was there, if only metaphorically.

But now, lying beside him and staring up at his namesake, she wondered if it was something more than just comfort. She remembered how trustingly he had laid down beside her and closed his eyes at her request. She had honestly just wanted him to get the most out of their night of meteor viewing.

But her heart had beat a little faster when she gazed at his thick eyelashes, fluttering slightly as though fighting the urge to peek. At how… _handsome_ he looked; the smooth skin of his clean-shaven jaw diffusing the moonlight, the messy curls that complemented his boyish charm, and the slight blush over his cheekbones. _Not blush,_ she had convinced herself, _it’s just his body’s natural reaction to the cold night air._

She had hastily brushed off the distracting images to lay herself down beside him. She had to suppress those thoughts; Fitz would surely be embarrassed if he caught her gazing at him like a smitten teenager.

Luckily, once she had closed her eyes, it had become a little easier to shift her mindset back to why they had made the trip in the first place. She had then started to wonder if the adrenalin rush would actually help her pupils dilate more quickly. And she had persuaded herself that enjoying the night as an opportunity to bond further with her best friend should be enough.

Until she had caught him looking at _her._ And how close his lips had been to hers when he had obviously rebelled against her suggestion.

In that exact moment, she had been flooded with the desire to close that physically small yet emotionally massive gap between them. And as her brow furrowed with indecision, her eyes had swept down of their own volition, and she had almost, _almost_ edged those extra couple of inches towards his mouth.

But when her eyes had swept back up, he was looking at her like a deer in headlights, and she just couldn’t put him in that position unless she was _sure_ he was on the same page. Just because she had begun to think differently towards him recently, didn’t mean the feeling was reciprocated. The next few weeks were going to be chaotic enough; she didn’t need to add awkwardness to the mix.

She heard him take a deep breath, and it jolted her back to the present; maybe he was still processing her revealing comment. She hoped he could extrapolate on her response, because she was too embarrassed to bluntly tell him. She also wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to admit just how strong her feelings towards him were becoming.

He looked at her with sincerity. And then his brow wrinkled slightly with curiosity. “Where is it?” he asked.

The tension in the air seemed to dissipate as they fell back into familiarity. There was no way he missed the significance, but she was relieved he let her off the hook by not scrutinising her response more thoroughly. She pointed to the east, and Fitz tried to follow the line of her fingers. “The backward looking question mark,” she said. She could see his face scrunched in concentration. “Can you see where the Plough is?” He didn’t respond. “The Big Dipper?”

“Oh, yep.”

“Just over from that… it looks like a sickle.”

“Oh, I see it! Is that Leo? I never really knew what it looked like,” Fitz said, with genuine interest. “Huh. I guess that is something I should probably know.” She looked over at him and he turned to her with a grin. “Even if it is a stupid name.”

She smiled along with him. “No, it’s not, Fitz.”

His grin merged into a self-deprecating smile. And then his eyes widened as he pointed over her shoulder. She turned just in time to see a very bright meteor streak across the sky, an orange colour trailing in its wake.

“If I remember correctly, that means it is made up mainly of sodium,” Fitz commented.

“Yes it does,” she corroborated. “How lucky! They aren’t very common.”

It felt as though the two of them were alone. Not just in the sense that they were lying next to each other without another soul in shouting distance, but completely isolated from the world. She could almost imagine them being the only people on the planet.

Until she saw a plane, blinking high above as it traversed the sky. She was disappointed that it broke the illusion, but she had to admit it was remarkable, in its own way; the heavy piece of metal perfected by generations of engineers so it could defy gravity. Designed by remarkable people, like the one lying next to her right now.

And then three meteors arced across the sky simultaneously, as though nature didn’t want to be outdone.

“Whoa!” Fitz said in awe, sitting up and pointing. “Did you see that?!”

“Amazing,” she agreed. She joined him, pushing herself up and taking in the view of the sky and its reflection on the lake as the blanket tumbled to their waists.

“You were right. It _is_ getting better the longer we are here,” Fitz said, tucking his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

She whole-heartedly agreed, and not just in relation to the stargazing; the more time she spent with him, the better she felt.

Earlier in the night, she thought he might partly be using the stargazing as an excuse to get away from the party. She had always known he found the mysteries of space interesting, but the way he was staring, wide-eyed and attentive was more than she had anticipated. She was sad that she hadn’t suggested more evenings like this previously, because she wasn’t sure how many opportunities they would get once they embarked on their new career path.

“So I guess it won’t be long now until we need to tell everyone at SciOps that we are leaving,” Simmons said. “Even if we have to keep our new boss’s identity a secret.”

“I think I am going to make a big show about it, just like Melody did last week when she paraded around telling anyone who would listen about the transfer.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “And even those who didn’t want to,” he added.

“That, I’d like to see,” Simmons said, her tone full of mirth at the thought of Fitz being even remotely extroverted. “But, it was actually Maeve who did that,” she informed him.

“Was it?”

Simmons laughed at the fact he still couldn’t tell them apart despite knowing them since they were teenagers. “You can describe in great detail each component of some intricate engine a month after you have reassembled it, but you don’t take any notice of people.”

“Yes I do,” he said indignantly. He waggled his finger in the general direction of her face. “That lipstick is darker than the one you were wearing in the lab today, and you changed your earrings this week.”

Her hand slipped under her beanie and fiddled with the stud on her left earlobe. She had forgotten she had swapped to them after she lost one of her small hoop earrings on the weekend.

“ _And,_ that’s the jacket you wore to the after-graduation party at the Academy,” Fitz added. He looked as though he might say more, before realising he had probably said enough to make his point.

Simmons glanced down at the grey tweed garment. He was right. She knew he had the ability to be extremely observant, but she just hadn’t expected it to be in regards to _her._ But it still astounded her that he could get so fixated on certain objects or details, and be oblivious to everything else that was happening around him.

“Fitz… Maeve cut her hair last week. It’s a good few inches shorter than her sister’s.”

“Is it?” He shrugged his shoulders and laid back on the blanket, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Maybe I just take notice of things I like,” he mumbled. Simmons felt a smattering of goosebumps travel down her arms; she wasn’t sure if it was due to his words, or the bite of the winter night against her skin. She looked over to him but he was staring up at the sky. “Nothing weird about that.”

She was going to rebuke his claim, but then realised she didn’t know whether to argue or agree. Her mind kept replaying his words about noticing things he liked. She kept oscillating between assuming he meant in regards to technology and wondering if any of the statement was actually in relation to her. Even _hoping_ that it was in regards to her?

She started to lean back, but she was so distracted that she was half-way down before she realised that her head was going to land on Fitz’s inner forearm. She hesitated for a moment, not sure whether she should move further away, so he could keep his hands tucked under his head, or risk lying against him and see how he would react. She really didn’t want to shift away from him; the warmth of his body beside hers was quite welcoming.

But then the decision was made for her when her hair brushed against his arm and he unlocked his fingers from behind his neck. He pulled the thick tartan square a little higher and slid his hands under, clasping them over his abdomen instead.

She settled back to the same position she had originally been in. After sitting up for a few minutes, the chill breeze had stolen the warm air they had trapped beneath the woollen material. It made her want to curl even closer against him and use the heat of his body to warm her own. 

“Sorry, I’ll try to refrain from taking up the whole blanket again.” She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but Simmons regretted hearing her earlier words echoed back. He wriggled slightly away.

“No, don’t…” Her hand shot out reflexively to grab him by the biceps and halt any further retreat. But it stopped midway when she saw his uncertainty. She felt awful; he must have thought she meant don’t hog the blanket. “You don’t need to shift over any further,” she clarified. Her hand hovered for a few seconds, before she pulled it back to the safety of her chest. “I mean, you’ll practically be on the grass if you move.” She tried to sound light-hearted.

“Wow, how altruistic of you to not turf me out… on the turf,” he said. He smiled and shot a look at her sideways and she grinned in response. They both relaxed and shuffled a bit until they each found a comfortable groove.

The two of them enjoyed the astrological spectacle for another half an hour, the lulls in activity interspersed with Simmons filling Fitz in on mythological tales associated with the constellations. She used her fingers to guide his gaze towards various star clusters. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she had a suspicion that Fitz’s head was getting closer to her arm each time she would point out something new. She was enjoying herself immensely. She was disappointed they both had to work the next day.

She sat up and retrieved her phone from her jacket pocket. She risked a glance at the screen, knowing the light would affect her vision, and hoped it wouldn’t confirm her suspicion that they had spent more time lying in the park than they had planned for.

 “I think we are going to have to go soon,” she said in dismay.

“Why?” Fitz’s voice sounded almost whiny.

“Because it is after midnight, and we have to work tomorrow.” Simmons could see puffs of her breath each time she spoke. “Plus, the temperature is going to drop even more rapidly. And my fingers are getting cold.” The hand she had been using to point out various celestial objects was particularly chilly. She was clenching and unclenching her fist to improve the circulation.

“Mine have been under the blanket.” He sat up and offered his hand, palm up. “Here, let me warm them up for you.”

“Fitz, my hand is freezing, it won’t be very pleasant.” She was grateful for the offer, but she was worried that he would regret his noble gesture when he actually felt just how cold her fingers were.

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do since you have had to wave that hand around in the cold to point things out to me.”

She tilted her head in contemplation, glancing at his outstretched hand, then back to his face. His pupils were large as he looked at her with sincerity. It was probably just the fact that they had been in relative darkness for an extended period, but a part of her was hoping there was an inkling of desire coursing through him. Despite her understanding that dilated pupils were biology’s trick to make him more alluring, it didn’t negate the fact that it was having the intended effect.

She could feel her heart thumping in her ribcage, and the emotions that had been brewing all night were creeping to the surface once more. She could see his respiratory rate had increased along with hers, and she started believing that maybe he was also welcoming the impending contact, even if not as intensely as herself.

Her hesitation seemed to make him nervous, and he started to look worried that she was going to reject his gesture. This was ridiculous. She had held his hand before. Why did this time feel so daunting?

She started to move her hand, inching it closer as his remained steadfast in anticipation. She looked at his eyes, but they seemed to be fixated on her fingers moving achingly slowly towards his.

Their hands were almost touching, only a fraction of an inch apart when she felt it: a spark of electricity between them.

Literally.

A jolt of static had them flinching away from each other with a chorus of curses.

They both flapped their hands to dissipate the tingling sensation with nervous laughter. It actually did give them quite a shock.

“Stupid static,” Fitz mumbled, just as Simmons said: “Damn dry winds.” They heard each other perfectly, despite talking over the top of each other.

“Sorry,” Fitz said.

“It’s not _your_ fault,” Simmons responded. It was just like Fitz to apologise for something out of his control, instead of letting the other person feel bad about it. She went to rest her palm on the back of his hand out of habit, but realised the impending mistake when she was still a few inches away.

Fitz looked down to where her hand lingered near his, then back up to her eyes with dismay. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes crinkling as well.

They looked at each other for a few moments, before Fitz took a deep breath as though bolstering his courage, then tentatively put his hand out, quickly tapping the back of his against hers with a squint.

Simmons flinched at the contact, but she wasn’t sure if it was in anticipation of another shock, or because of the brief contact with the back of Fitz’s hand. She looked up at him. “I think it has discharged now.” She gave him a hopeful smile and held her palm out towards him.

“I guess so.” He reached towards her once again, and slowly clasped his hand around hers. The pleasant warmth of his fingers was immediately noticeable. Her fingers curled around his, eager for as much contact as possible.

He pulled her arm a little closer to himself, his thumb gently brushing against her knuckles. And then he brought his other hand up from beneath the blanket and placed his palm over the back of her hand, cocooning it between his own. It felt wonderful; not just the comforting warmth of his hands encasing hers, but also the devotion he imbued in the action.

“Thank you,” she said, hoping her honesty was abundantly evident.

“Of course,” he said, as though leaving her in a state of discomfort was unfathomable. He stared at their combined hands for a few moments, and then back to her eyes.

The feel of his skin against hers in conjunction with his adoring eyes was making it hard for her to think clearly. Her body was urging her to pull him closer, to press her lips against his and feel the warmth of his body against more than just her hands. The way he was looking at her almost convinced her that he was considering the same.

He rubbed her hands gently within his own, trying to increase the warmth, but halted after a few seconds. “Just to be safe, we should probably be careful not to build up too much friction.” He gave her a horrified look as soon as the words left his mouth.

She bit her lip, as he started stuttering, knowing her was desperately trying to scramble back from the sentence. The faux pas was quite comical, but she knew he was mortified by the insinuation. She felt his fingers loosen in embarrassment, but she kept her grip steadfast.

“It’s okay, Fitz,” she said with a forgiving smile, and placed her other hand over his, ensuring he wouldn’t pull away. “I’ll take my chances.”

He gave her a grateful look and she felt his fingers squeeze around her hand.

“And I have an idea of how we can minimise the chance of getting zapped again,” she said, pressing her palms more firmly against his in response. She looked into his eyes with honesty. “Just don’t let me go.”


	4. Chapter 4

Their hands were still linked as they neared the car. It was like a game, and both Fitz and Simmons loved a challenge. It wasn’t that far removed from their normal state of being; they often had shared quirks that no one else seemed to understand, so this new activity just seemed to be an extension of that.

They had each managed to tuck a blanket under their arm and make their way back to the car without once unclasping their hands. It had been too difficult to operate their phones, so they had no light besides that provided by the remnants of the moon from where it was almost touching the horizon. They had taken longer than was warranted, assuring each other that they needed to traverse more carefully in the darker conditions.

And, despite already taking twice as long as the journey earlier in the night, Fitz noticed that the closer they got to their destination, the slower Simmons seemed to be walking. He was also very aware that at some point during the trip, her fingers had shifted until they were laced between his. Actually, when he thought back, he couldn’t be sure which of them had instigated the change in position.

When they finally reached the car, they both seemed to realise that - if Fitz was to have any hope of driving responsibly - the impromptu game was up. She squeezed her palm against his. He went to open the passenger door for her, but then he felt her tug his hand, until it jerked him away from the door.

“Wait,” she said.

He looked at where his hand had halted, just short of the metal door handle. She must have been worried he was going to get another shock.

And he did; it just wasn’t the electrical kind.

It was the shock that came when Simmons dropped her blanket to the ground to instead weave the fingers of her free hand into the collar of his cardigan, pulling him just a little closer. He looked in surprise at her delicate fingers grasping the material, before looking at her face.

“Not just yet,” she said, eyes pleading.

Small wisps of her hair curled in the frosty breeze and her cheeks were pink. _She’s not blushing,_ he assured himself, _it’s just wind burn._ Her pale skin made the lipstick he had noted earlier look even darker, and he realised just how close her lips actually were to his.

But then he saw her take in a controlled breath, before it left again with a shudder. She looked up at him with a questioning stare. _Does she want to kiss me? Or is she hoping I kiss her? Or is it all the same thing?_ His brain was coaxing him to bend down those couple of inches – just slowly, so he could gauge her reaction - until his mouth was against hers.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice her face was edging closer to his. And it wasn’t until he felt her breath against his lips that he realised she was stretched up on her toes, falling short of making contact by half an inch. She was looking up at him with such vulnerability, shadows from her eyelashes dancing across her face each time she blinked, and he realised he would do anything to quell the insecurity he saw in her. His gaze drifted down to her waiting lips, and he ducked his head down the remaining distance, feeling as though an exorbitant amount of time passed before he felt the softness of her mouth against his own.

He closed his eyes as soon as their lips met. It took a while for him to process the sensation; he wasn’t even moving, just savouring the feel of her pressing lightly against him. It was like his body was too scared to change position until his brain had memorised how delightful the contact felt, in case it all ended too soon.

And then he felt her mouth open by the slightest degree before closing again, this time with his bottom lip trapped between both of hers. He pressed against her mouth more firmly, wanting her to know he thoroughly approved and encouraged more. And when she took a breath, he shifted until he had reversed the position so her bottom lip was now between his, hoping he could show her just how delectable it felt.

He wanted to hold her more closely against him, realising that the hand that wasn’t still tucked within hers was hanging uselessly by his side. He suddenly remembered he still had the blanket folded under his armpit. He unceremoniously dropped it and used his free hand to push the dark wave of hair from her face until the palm of his hand rested against her jaw, and his fingers slipped under the beanie to cradle her ear.

The extra contact seemed to spur Simmons on; she shifted her hand from his cardigan until it could curl behind his neck. Even as she pulled him harder against herself, she was leaning into him, so much so that his back fell against the side of the car. Her kisses became more insistent, and he eagerly followed suit.

He just seemed to instinctively know where her lips would be. Or maybe she knew where his were. Either way, it felt like their mouths had been tailored for each other, moving together with innate ease. It felt so perfect that Fitz couldn’t fathom why they hadn’t done this earlier. But now it was all seeming to happen so quickly that his brain was in too much of a daze to comprehend any heavy thoughts.

And just as abruptly, it ended.

Fitz’s eyes were still closed, and it took a few seconds for him to realise her lips weren’t sweeping back for another round. His eyes sprung open.

“It’s terribly cold,” Simmons said, as though that explained everything.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” It _was_ cold, but the heat on his lips where Simmons had just been was overriding any other sensory input.

“Let me get the door.” She looked at him imploringly. He wondered if he had done something wrong, but he was trying comprehend how something which had felt so wonderful to him might have not been as appealing to her.

He knew she wasn’t one to go weak at the knees over chivalry, but he had sort of liked the idea of making the noble gesture earlier. He started to shift his backside away from where he rested against the car.

But then he saw her hand move to the handle on the _back_ door.

_Ohhhh._ His eyes went wide at her allusion.  She dragged him the couple of feet towards the door and opened it.

He didn’t know what to say. He looked at the empty backseat and back to her. And he realised he didn’t _need_ to say anything.

She hesitated for a moment, but when she saw the look in his eyes, she slowly edged her way onto the backseat, never letting go of his hand.

Fitz crawled into the confined space with her, keeping her fingers within his grasp as though it was his lifeline. She shuffled backwards until her back was against the opposite door. Fitz’s free hand braced against one of the headrests of the front seat for balance and he was frantically trying to work out where he could put his knees without injuring Simmons in the process.

“Fitz.” He looked up when he heard his name, seeing the amusement in Simmons’ eyes as she watched his internal battle. He thought she might sympathise with his predicament, until she said: “It defeats the purpose of escaping the wind if you leave the door open.”

His face fell slightly in disappointment. His brain had been focusing on whatever actions would allow his body as much contact with hers as quickly as possible. Something as mundane as closing the door had not even made the list.

“I thought that the cold was just an excuse to lure me into the car?” He tried to muster his best look of innocence.

And then a traitorous gust of wind curling through the open door proved her point. She tilted her head in victory.

“Only partly,” she confessed.

“Luckily, I’m easily led,” he said, and he quickly leaned over and gave her a rebellious peck on the lips before pulling his head back a fraction. “At least when it comes to you.”

He started to let go of her hand as he turned towards the door. But then he felt her clasp his fingers tightly and tug on them until she had his attention. He halted and turned around, seeing her glance down at their combined grasp then back to his face with a raised eyebrow and a quick shake of her head.

He was trying to work out the logistics. He did enjoy this little game they had stumbled upon, but it was going to make certain movements rather problematic. Did she think he was a bloody contortionist?

He started to arch towards the door. She sat up a bit to give him some leeway. He stretched his fingers out until they could just grab the handle and he pulled until it clicked shut, fending off the night air. He slumped his head back and wriggled in the seat, their hands settled between them. He looked over at her mirroring his position.

“I feel as though we should be expecting a chauffeur to turn up,” Fitz said. They giggled at the thought. Fitz wondered how much of it was truly in humour, and how much was nerves.

He saw Simmons take a deep breath. “I certainly hope not.”  And then she slid across the back seat until she could crawl into his lap.

Fitz felt his lower half tense as her thighs straddled his. Her hand – now slightly warmer than it had been - skimmed from his shoulder up to his neck and she laced her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. He felt her grip tighten in his hair as she pressed her mouth against his. Kissing her in the relative safety of the dark expanse outside was one thing, but having her backside pushing against his thighs as her lips probed his required a whole new level of control. He could feel the heat of her thighs even through the layers of their slacks.

She pulled her head back. “It’s a shame that the weather is so…” she started, her tongue just skimming the corner of her top lip as she considered her words, “… _dangerous_ at the moment.” Fitz was captivated, his eyes fixated on the small glistening area on her lips where her tongue had been. “I can practically _feel_ the electricity in the air.”

Fitz saw the flash of desire in her eyes, and the hairs on his arm stood on end. The dry conditions could very well be the cause, but it may have solely been due to her words having unprecedented effects on his body. He was in uncharted territory, but when it was in regards to Simmons, he wanted to explore further.

She grabbed the lapel of his cardigan and rubbed the material between her fingers. “Unfortunately, wool is an excellent insulator,” Simmons reminded him with a sincere glare. “I’m afraid the cardigan is going to have to go.”

Fitz had barely dared to imagine even kissing Simmons as they had made the languid walk back to the car. Just walking hand-in-hand so comfortably had been enough to make his heart swell with possibilities. And he was sure that if the decision had been left entirely to him, he would have been too nervous to instigate the kiss. So he was eternally grateful that she had arched up to him so willingly, wordlessly showing him what she desired. And the moment their lips had finally met, it seemed to trigger a cascade that he was powerless to resist. Let alone her delightful frame now crushing against his as she started to pull at his cardigan.

He tried to steady his breathing; he couldn’t quite pinpoint why things had escalated so quickly, but he didn’t want his body to embarrassingly indicate just _how_ invested it was at the thought of Simmons in various stages of undress. But maybe he was skipping too far ahead; was she just extrapolating on their newfound game, but was going to come to her senses at some point and renege on the act of bravado?

He could feel his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation, but then he saw her small smirk of playfulness. Each breath she took as she awaited his response moved her lower half against his. And even those minute movements were enough to quell his doubts and he decided to acquiesce.

Fitz pushed her up until her shoulders came to rest against the front seat, and the shift in position caused her crotch to brush just above his knees. Fitz welcomed the unexpected perk, even though he had only moved her back so he could start working on her request. Suddenly, being able to unbutton his cardigan one-handed as Simmons was perched in his lap seemed to be the ultimate compensation for endless hours spent fiddling with intricate objects.

He had never been so grateful for developing his fine motor skills.

When the last button was undone, Simmons helped him slide the material from his shoulder and off one arm. He trailed the remaining sleeve down his other arm. He was just about to shed it from his fingers when Simmons hastily grabbed the material.

“Stop,” she warned. She looked into his eyes and raised a knowing eyebrow before grabbing his other hand. “Okay, it should be safe now,” she said, then let go of the hand that had been joined where his cardigan bunched at his wrist.

Fitz heartily ignored the fact that there was ample contact where her thighs were encasing his own. He threw the cardigan onto the seat beside them. He slipped his hand beneath her jacket, then snaked it behind her back, searching for the gap between the waistband of her trousers and the hem of her satin blouse.

“I believe that is woollen too,” he said, indicating the beanie that was now lopsided on her head. “Take it off.”

“Fitz!” she admonished. She put her hand on her chest in mock scandal. “How very forward of you.”

“I know,” he said, finally finding the elusive patch of skin, and he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her lower back. He felt her thighs squeeze in response to the contact. “I can be quite outrageous at times.”

“But,” she said as she ducked down and pressed her lips against the cold tip of his nose, “fair’s fair, I guess.”

She rested her hand against his chest and pushed herself up, then grabbed the ostentatious pompom and plucked the beanie from her head.

He grinned up at her, and then bit his bottom lip to refrain from laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Your hair,” he said. She gave him a quizzical stare. “The static is making it stick out.”

“Is it?” Her hand started to move to the top of her head.

The last rays of the moon where filtering through the window, highlighting the errant strands that framed her face so they created a spiky halo. He saw some of them gravitate further outwards as her fingers neared her scalp.

“It makes you look like a mad scientist,” he said, as he shifted his hand so he could squeeze her hip.

She scrunched her nose up and used the palm of her hand to flatten out the wayward hairs as best she could. “Well, if you don’t get those lips back on mine soon,” she said, then leaned a little closer to him, “I _will_ be a mad scientist.”

Fitz marvelled at what he had just heard. _Jemma Simmons wants my lips against hers!_ And the mock-stern face she was giving him in warning was nothing short of adorable. He didn’t think he would ever be able to see her in a serious situation again, without reliving this moment.

His hand moved up to cradle her jaw, and he pulled her closer, even as he surged forward to meet her half way. He moved his lips against hers with renewed enthusiasm, opening his mouth further between each breath. Her free hand was now curled around the back of his head, trying to hold him in place as her mouth slanted against his.

And then he felt her tongue poke out to tentatively graze against his bottom lip.

“Simmons.” Fitz pushed her back slightly, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing. “I think I need to let go of your hand.”

“As long as part of you is still touching me,” she said in compromise.

He opened his eyes and they were met by hers, dilated in anticipation. “Deal.” He planned on having _multiple_ parts touching her.

He dropped her hand to brace his against the seat, his other hand sliding from her jaw to settle between her shoulder blades. And then he twisted, lying down with her along the length of the back seat and shuffled as best he could so his body could make as much contact with hers in the small space.

His lanky frame was not doing him any favours. He settled for one knee on the floor, and the other nestled between her thighs. He tried to take some of his weight on his elbow but succumbed to gravity just enough so his torso and chest were lying flush against hers. He could feel her breasts pushing into him each time he took a breath.

Simmons’ hands were cupping his face, pulling him down to hungrily move her mouth against his. And then he felt one of her hands start slipping down to his neck, before continuing down his chest. Her nails dug into his pectoral muscles through the thin cotton of his shirt. It made him realise she had both hands free, which hardly seemed fair. _And_ she still had her jacket on, which was _definitely_ unfair. Fitz hesitantly moved his hand that wasn’t supporting his weight to the top button of her jacket.

He started to undo the buttons one-handed, and he felt her fingers flinch against him as the garment started to fall further open with each action. “Fitz, have I ever told you how much I admire your dexterity?” Simmons said, a small smirk emerging.

“Actually, you have,” he told her, a broad smile on his face as the last button was unhooked. “I just never thought it would be in this context.” The restricted area meant he couldn’t do much more than push the jacket to the side. He could see shadows of each rib where the shiny purple material of her blouse was pulled tight against her skin. He traced them in fascination, stopping when the palm of his hand was on the side of her breast. Even through her bra, he could feel the suppleness of the flesh that lay beneath.

A small groan escaped her lips when he gently squeezed. “Oh god, I wish I had realised earlier that this context was an option.”

He hovered over her, mesmerized by the thinly covered breasts that were just inches from his face. He wanted to remove more of her clothes, but it really was quite cold; he could feel the muscles of his back tensing against the frigid air. And he wasn’t sure if it was coincidence, or Simmons could read his mind, but both her hands slid around to his back and lay flat against him. _Much_ warmer hands than they had been previously. She rubbed them up and down a few times before wrapping them more firmly around him.

He could already feel his arm shaking from the exertion of holding himself up, and the burn in his abdominal muscles as he tried to refrain from crushing her.

_I really should consider doing some push-ups in the future,_ he decided. But the way she was eagerly encasing him seemed to indicate she was wanting him to press back against her. As though in confirmation, she put pressure on his back, pulling him down. He gently lowered himself against her, welcoming the feel of her frame moulding into his.

“Am I too heavy?” He hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

She looked up at him with doe eyes and merely shook her head. And then one of her hands weaved up to the back of his head and guided his lips down to hers. This time, when her tongue edged out, he pushed his out to meet it. His hand was squashed into her breast, and he massaged it between his fingers. His hormones were surging, his body urging him to fulfil his basic desires, but his mind was worrying him with thoughts of just what Simmons might actually expect of him. He knew she was more experienced than him when it came to biology, and not just in an academic sense.

The moon had finally slipped below the distant mountain range, and Fitz could barely see her anymore. He was upset at being denied the details which he had only recently been privy to, but his sense of touch seemed to be more acute. And suddenly one of her hands just happened to be between them, cupping him through his trousers. His hips jerked of their own accord even as his brain reminded him that the current conditions weren’t exactly favourable to him being able to perform to the degree he thought she deserved.

“Simmons,” he said in warning. Her hand stopped moving, but stayed in place against the burgeoning bulge. “I feel that judging me under these, umm… _cold_ conditions may be unfair.”

“Fitz, you have nothing to worry about,” she said in assurance. “The current data is actually quite promising.” She dragged her finger across his bulge rather deliberately as she retreated. “But if you want to wait, I understand.”

It was dark, and cold, and _cramped_.

Fitz was starting to lose feeling in the knee that was crammed into the floor, his hands had no chance of actually making contact with the bare skin of her breasts and, as much as the heat of her hand had done wonderful things to his groin, he didn’t exactly want her first impression of his… _asset_ to be in the stark winter temperature.

“These circumstances are not really amenable to exploration,” he lamented.

She was silent for a few moments. He wondered if she was reconsidering the path they seemed to be on. And then she tried to shift her hand towards his backside in defiance, but it got stuck against the seatbelt buckle. He knew she was determined by nature, but even she seemed to have realised they had reached a standstill.

She groaned in frustration. She scrunched her face up and huffed. “Agreed.” He reluctantly pushed himself back to a seated position, taking her hand in his to help her pull herself up. She sighed in defeat. “But, at least the company isn’t half bad,” she added. And then she placed her hand against his cheek as a guide, leaning into him for one last, lingering kiss.

Fitz started wondering if he should have just shunned his concerns and powered through, in case tomorrow brought a new wave of self-doubt. But then he berated himself; he had known it all along, but was only admitting it to himself now: Simmons was perfect. So, if he was blessed enough that she still somehow thought him worthy the next time they had an opportunity, he would do his best to exceed any expectations she might have.

If only they hadn’t been required to work the next day.

Fitz considered suggesting that next time, they keep driving further east, deeper into the darkness with each other. Far enough that they just _had_ to find somewhere to stay overnight.


	5. Chapter 5

They had just reached the city outer limits, when Simmons started to lean towards him. Fitz was relieved that, so far, they had not discussed what had happened in the backseat earlier in the night. He wasn’t quite sure what his body’s response would be if he allowed himself to reminisce on those surreal moments. It had taken half the trip for the firmness in his pants to subside, and he wasn’t too keen on repeating the action unless he could ensure a satisfying conclusion. And if that meant taking matters in his own hands, so be it. But as he saw her frame edging closer to his, he felt his heart starting to thump more rapidly at the possible implications.

“The tank is a quarter full,” Simmons pointed out as she peered past his shoulder at the dashboard. “We should stop at the gas station that is coming up.”

“We have plenty of petrol to make it back,” Fitz assured her.

“But it is bad for the engine if it gets too low.”

“You are going to give me a lecture on the proper care of engines?” he asked incredulously. She seemed a little hurt by his remark, and he felt bad. “Simmons, it will be fine. The fuel light isn’t even on yet. There is plenty of time before it will have any effect.”

“Well, I need a bathroom break anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t _mind_ stopping. I just thought you might want to get home as soon as possible.” He stared at the clock on the dash. “It’s nearly quarter to two.”

“I won’t take long,” Simmons promised as the gas station loomed ahead.

As Fitz pulled up she turned to him. “You fill up, I’ll go pay after I use the bathroom.”

“What? No. I’ll pay.”

“Fitz, don’t argue with me about this. You have just driven me for more than two hours. _And_ I fell asleep on the way there.” Fitz grinned when his previous assumption was confirmed. “It’s the least I can do.”

Fitz didn’t even bother trying to reason with her. If Simmons already had such a well-planned argument, there was no point trying to disagree with her. She would have at least three other points up her sleeve in rebuttal.

He hopped out of the car and started pumping the gas. Simmons still hadn’t returned by the time he had finished, and he decided a bathroom break wasn’t such a bad idea.

By the time he had relieved himself and wandered back to the car, Simmons was already perched in the passenger seat.

He slid back behind the steering wheel, when a chocolate bar suddenly appeared in front of his face. He actually felt his stomach clench in response; he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until the dose of sugar was so tantalizingly displayed before him.

He looked over at Simmons, a broad smile appearing on her face when she saw his enthusiasm.

“You’re the best.” He meant it. And he disregarded the chocolate that was hovering in front of him to first lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips.

As he pulled back, he saw her grateful look and his tongue automatically brushed over his lip; he could taste the chocolate that she was half way through consuming. The surge of dopamine that ran through him must have been due to the subtle flavour. He was _pretty_ sure it couldn’t have been in response to the feel of her lips against his for such a brief moment.

He ducked back once more, kissing her more insistently, then pulled his head back a fraction to taste his lips again. “Which chocolate is that?” he asked in a daze.

“Milky Way.” She grinned at him and he felt the chocolate she had bought for him drop into his lap as she directed her hand towards the back of his head instead. “Some limited edition flavour,” she said pulling him in for another kiss.

He pushed his mouth back against her, breathing the mixture of her scent and the chocolate through his nose. “Well it’s the best damn chocolate I’ve ever tasted.”

He placed his elbow on the centre console to support himself, and weaved his fingers into her loose curls. He slanted his mouth against hers, savouring the softness of her lips before opening his mouth. She copied him and he pulled them together more firmly, longing to taste more of her. He felt the slightest moan from her as his tongue finally moved against hers.

And then there was the sound of a horn tooting and lights started flashing. Fitz froze mid-kiss, his lips still against hers as his eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if the person behind was impatient, or just appreciating the show. Fitz had actually lost track of how long they had been snogging. In a _gas station._ With people around, and – he now saw lenses perched high on a pole – _cameras._ He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious.

He pulled his head back and grimaced slightly. “Whoops.” Simmons giggled at the shocked look on his face.

Fitz looked over his shoulder and absently waved in the general direction of the car behind them. “Sorry, mate,” he said, as though the occupant may actually hear the apology, and then turned the key in the ignition.

He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he hastily pulled out of the gas station. He could see Simmons gazing at him out the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore it for several seconds, but he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“What are you looking at me for?” He risked a quick glance at her before turning his attention back to the - thankfully - deserted road. She seemed to be quite mirthful.

“Are you just going to ignore that?” He saw her pointing towards his groin.

A moment of panic ran through him; it had taken long enough for the previous erection to subside, he hardly needed her to draw attention to the stirrings of a new one. He glanced down and relaxed; his chocolate bar was still in his lap. He had totally forgotten about it.

“I’ve never known you to knock food back,” she said. He was relieved that she hadn’t seemed to notice the slight bulge in his trousers. “I’ll open it for you,” she offered.

He was about to say that he would manage just fine on his own, but her hand landed in his lap before he even had the chance to open his mouth. She grabbed the bar from his crotch. And briefly grabbed a handful of something else while she was there. His foot jerked out reflexively, causing the car to rev loudly before he managed to take control of his leg again. And then her fingers had disappeared.

Surely she had just misplaced her hand in the dark conditions.

Surely.

But when he looked over, he saw the smallest curl at the edge of her lip as she focused on peeling the foil back from the chocolate.

She handed it back to him, and he took a large bite. He was grateful, not only for her forethought in buying the energy booster, but also for not mentioning the situation in his pants. Well, if she even felt it. Which she probably did.

He turned and gave her a brief smile. She actually looked coy. He hardly ever saw her look coy. _Okay,_ _she definitely felt it._ He shuffled slightly in his seat, but it didn’t help. And the thought of where her fingers had been just moments earlier only exacerbated the problem.

Fitz had easily managed to concentrate on the trip so far despite their usual philosophical banter and curiosities regarding space. But the newfound silence was actually more distracting than holding a full blown conversation about the physics of black holes. Too much time to overthink everything that had happened between them. He held the remainder of the bar in his teeth and switched on the radio.

A love song. Of course it was. And not even some melodic, old school one that you knew so well you just tuned out the actual lyrics. It was one of those modern, _rather_ explicit tunes that discarded euphemisms in favour of blatant descriptions.

He hastily changed channels: country. It would probably do the trick to hamper the swelling in his pants, but Simmons would know something was amiss if he suddenly seemed to have a penchant for banjos and songs about lonely nights in trucks.

“How about you pick the station?” he asked around a mouthful of chocolate bar.

She seemed happy to take charge, and Fitz tried to focus on minimising the amount of crumbs he would inevitably drop.

Simmons finally settled on a station that played mostly acoustic songs. It seemed to be an appropriate accompaniment for winding down the evening. After a few minutes, the tension seemed to have ebbed. Fitz finished the chocolate and was looking for a place to dispose of the wrapper.

“Here, give it to me.” Simmons held her palm out, and he handed it to her.

“Thanks.” The foil disappeared into the depths of her handbag. “Not just for _that_ ,” he said, indicating the chocolate bar, and her fastidious cleanliness which helped keep his car tolerable, “for everything.” He gave her a brief smile, but capitalized on the excuse of driving to turn his attention back to the road. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“So did I. Thank _you_ for coming. I don’t know many people who would be willing to drive for hours and lie in the cold for half a night to stare at the sky.”

“And people think _we’re_ the crazy ones.” He looked over at her knowingly, his eyebrows raised. They smiled at each other and then he looked ahead once more. “They have no idea what they are missing.”

“They really don’t,” she agreed.

And, just like that, they were back to familiar ground. Fitz started to relax in his seat, and Simmons leaned back and rested her arm on the centre console. It felt like just another one of the several road trips they had taken over the years.

Except Simmons’ hand did seem to brush against the side of his leg whenever they rounded a bend.


	6. Chapter 6

It didn’t take long for the interior of the car to start cooling when Fitz turned off the ignition. He contemplated turning it back on, just so the heater would start up again, but he figured Simmons would take that as a sign that he was eager to leave.

Which he wasn’t.

He was debating whether or not he should walk her to her building. All thirty feet. But she might think it quite odd; he couldn’t exactly justify it as concern for her welfare when she would have basically made it to the entrance by the time he exited the driver’s side door.

Simmons gathered her beanie and jacket from her lap. Fitz saw her methodically fold the jacket and drape it over her arm. He swallowed deeply, his brain running though all possible excuses he could come up with to delay her leaving, even if just a while longer.

She slowly leaned forward to retrieve her handbag from between her feet. Fitz pressed his fingers into the steering wheel until he felt pins-and-needles. She placed the bag against her knees and rummaged through its contents. He wasn’t sure if she was actually looking for something, or stalling in making her exit.

The silence was torture. _Say something_ , he willed himself. _Say anything!_

She seemed to have finished whatever she had been doing with her bag and looped the strap over her shoulder. Was he just going to let her leave? Just get out of the car and walk into the night without at least giving her an indication of what tonight had meant to him?

She turned towards him, an unsure smile on her face. Was she as conflicted as he?

“Thank you for dropping me home, Fitz.”

“My pleasure.” He urged himself to say more. She held his gaze for a few moments. He tried to think of something that would acknowledge how important the night was to him, without making her feel awkward if she wasn’t quite as affected.

But after a few more seconds, he was still frozen in place. Simmons seemed to pick up on his lack of action but still leaned over and pressed her lips against his. It was a chaste kiss, compared to what they had engaged in earlier, but Fitz was reluctant to escalate things in case she was just being polite. He knew without a doubt that she cared for him, and would never want to make him feel uncomfortable. Was this the kiss that was indicating as much? That she didn’t regret what they had done that night, but the familiarity of home highlighted the reality of their relationship and that taking things to the next level was too much of a risk?

She retreated back to her side of the car. Fitz could feel the furrows of indecision on his brow as she looked at him expectantly.

_Just let her know that you enjoyed being with her tonight. It doesn’t have to be some grand, sweeping statement,_ he assured himself. But, still, no words presented themselves.

She gave him a sad smile and opened the passenger door.

He wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet, but he didn’t want to seem too forward in proposing he escort her to her apartment. His hesitancy almost seemed unwarranted; he had spent many a night curled up with her on the couch watching TV shows and even fallen asleep during movie marathons.

Their competitive natures often meant neither of them wanted to be the one to suggest that, maybe - six hours into a session - they should reconsider and finish a trilogy the following night. So it wasn’t unusual for Fitz to find himself waking to the music of end credits, her head lolled against his shoulder, or his hand having fallen into her lap. Those moments often made his heart thump firmly, and he tried to convince himself it was in embarrassment, but he couldn’t deny there had been an inkling of desire.

Which he persistently tried to quell.

Every time, he worried she would feel his rapid breaths and stir from her slumber and then apologise profusely for invading his personal space. Luckily, he had always managed to extricate himself from the unintentional contact before she woke up.

But it was already late, and Fitz couldn’t very well suggest he accompanied her now without the implication seeming rather obvious. And, despite her enthusiasm earlier in the night, he didn’t want to pressure her for anything more, especially since they were at _her_ place, where she wouldn’t have an excuse to leave if she now felt uncomfortable with the situation.

He curled his toes within his sneakers, face falling as he watched her step out the door. Just as she was about to close it, a gust of cold wind rushed into the car and nipped at his skin.

“Wait!” He was suddenly gifted a plausible option. “Your blankets.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “I almost forgot them.” He scrambled out of his seat and grabbed them from where they had been tossed on the backseat after their earlier dalliance.

“I can…” He forewent folding them in favour of scrunching them into a reasonable size to transport. “I’ll carry them for you.”

“Oh, that would be awfully helpful,” Simmons said, lifting her bag and the jacket slightly to indicate that her hands were full and she couldn’t possibly manage anything extra.

She strode ahead of him, as Fitz rolled the blankets tighter so he could fit them under one arm.

He was only a foot behind her once they reached the top of the stairs. She went to open the handle at the front of her building, when she suddenly pulled her hand back. “Ow!”

Fitz’s hand automatically darted out to grab hers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that ruddy static again. It wasn’t so bad, just gave me a fright, that’s all.”

He rubbed his thumb against her knuckles a few times. She smiled at him gratefully. He started to relax his grip, but she maintained hers so he halted his retreat to instead curl his fingers around hers once more. Maybe she wasn’t as concerned with the idea of him coming back to her apartment after all? He looked over at her, but she was now staring purposefully ahead, so he couldn’t gauge her reaction.

He noted that her hand was only slightly cooler than his now as they made their way down the hallway, stopping once they reached her door. She reluctantly dropped his hand and foraged in her bag for her key.

Fitz kicked the toe of her boots with his sneaker while he waited. “You do realise that these rubber soles are conspiring against us?” He stared at her, dead-pan.

“It’s bad enough for me,” she proclaimed, already tiring of the static building up via the insulating material, then she poked him in the rib. “But you are going to cop it worse with the way you drag your feet when you walk.”

She was right; he did have a tendency to lazily shuffle his way around.

She turned her attention to her front door. He could see she was hesitant to touch the metal handle. “Try putting the key in first, it should ground the charge,” he suggested.

She squinted one eye, then pushed the key into the slot. Nothing. She sighed in relief and pushed through the doorway. She held it open until Fitz had made his way into the room and then crouched down to place her belongings beside the door.

Fitz leaned against the wall with the blankets still bundled in his arms while she pulled her boots and socks off, wriggling her toes in the carpet once they were free. He never took his shoes off at her door unless he was staying for a while, so he felt a bit bold just removing them without her explicitly indicating as such.

She walked over to the coffee table and slowly placed the handbag, jacket and beanie on it. She turned back to face him, and crossed her arms. Fitz was trying to work out if she was still cold, or feeling defensive. He hugged the blankets against his chest a little more tightly in comfort.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Does this delivery service of yours have a policy of halting at the front door?” She smiled at him and started walking back in his direction. “Come on, help me fold them so they fit back in the cupboard. And take those shoes off; I don’t need any more shocks tonight.”

He pushed off from the wall and stood on the back of each sneaker, then stepped out of them.

She took the blankets from his arms and looked pointedly at his feet. “If those socks are woollen, they need to go too,” she informed him.

He removed the offending socks and dropped them on top of each shoe. He stood back up and walked over to where she stood next to the cupboard. He helped her fold the material into neat squares. He rolled his eyes – making sure she didn’t actually see him – as she critically assessed the edges to make sure they were straight. She finally seemed satisfied enough to smooth her hand over the fabric and place the two blankets on the shelf.

Even with her back to him, Fitz saw her rub her hands together. He tried to decipher if she was still feeling cold, or was nervous. But before he had a chance to reach a conclusion, she twisted around and shoved her hands under his open cardigan, looping them around his waist.

She didn’t say anything, just pressed her body slightly into his. He was mildly stunned by the action, which he found a bit weird, because they had hugged each other before. But, he reasoned, maybe not _quite_ as long as this, and certainly not after a particularly heated make out session.

He felt her take a deep breath as she looked up at him. “I hope you appreciate the risk I am taking, hugging you while you are wearing this.” She tilted her head to indicate the woollen cardigan. “But it is lovely and warm under here,” she surmised, squeezing her arms a little more tightly around his middle.

Whether it was truly a desire for warmth, or a disguise for a more intense desire, Fitz was more than willing to oblige. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, encasing her small frame. “Does this help?”

“Mmhmm.” He felt the vibration of her response through his chest. Her ear rested against his collarbone and he settled his chin on top of her head. She held him for a few more moments, and then she pulled away, staring at his chest as her fingers fiddled with one of the buttons where his cardigan hung open. “Hopefully, next time, the air won’t be so dry.”

His brow wrinkled. _Next time._ He tried to focus on the fact that she was insinuating they could repeat the experience from earlier in the night at some stage. But an insistent voice in his head was assuring him that she was indicating their current encounter was over.

He took one step back, her hand losing contact. He cleared his throat. “It would be nice to not have to worry about zapping each other every time we touch.” By the time her eyes had shot up to look at him, he had managed to shift his frown into a weak smile.

She returned his smile, and then her tongue briefly swept out to moisten her lips. His eyes were drawn to the image, but he knew dwelling for too long was only going to make leaving even more difficult. His eyes darted to the front door that was elusively several feet away, before shifting back to her.

Now, she was biting her lip. Even though it was out of insecurity, he felt a wave of lust rush through him. He couldn’t believe how seductive she was being without even trying.

“Fitz, are we okay?” She looked up at him with concern.

His mind rifled through the memories of the night. It was a big step. An _amazing_ step, but one that maybe they both needed to process a little more. Even if he just wanted to push her up against the wall and pick up from where they had left things back in the car until there were no more barriers between them.

“Simmons, you are the best friend I have ever had.” He knew he wanted more. Wanted _everything._ And if he was being honest with himself, he had wanted more for a long time. But he couldn’t risk jeopardizing their friendship just because his hormones were currently in overdrive.

“But earlier, I don’t quite know what happened. Something tonight just…” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “I can’t explain it.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to.” She curled her fingers under his chin and tilted his face towards hers. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Good. I… I don’t really know what else to say.” He could only hold her gaze for a few moments before his eyes shifted to his toes, which were curling into the carpet. “But I just wanted you to know that I thought tonight was brilliant. That… that you’re brilliant.”

He let out a controlled breath. _There. I’ve done it._ He felt his chest lighten as the words left his mouth. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start.

His head shot back up when he heard Simmons yawn. “I am _so_ sorry, do not take that as a lack of interest.” Her hand hurtled up to cover her mouth, and she looked horrified. “Honestly, I’m just tired.”

“Totally understandable.” He glanced at his wrist even though he wasn’t wearing a watch. “I mean, it has to be close to half two.” He chewed on his lip awkwardly and took a small step back towards the door.

She took a step forward. “Where are you going?” she asked, reaching her hand out to grab a fistful of his cardigan. “I’m not _that_ tired.”

Fitz blinked rapidly a few times. So… she wanted him to stay? Or did she just think it would seem impolite to dismiss him so quickly? “Wha… how tired… I mean, do you want me to…”  Maybe his brain was malfunctioning from lack of sleep as well.

And then her hand began to lazily traverse down his chest and over his abdomen. His last remaining chance of coherence was diminishing as his hands clenched at his sides.

He sighed, defeated. It was torture to try and decipher what she _might_ be thinking, when he could just ask her. “Simmons,” he started, giving her a pleading look, “what do you want?”

Her brow furrowed for the slightest moment, as though she was disappointed that he hadn’t already figured it out. “You, Fitz.”

His breaths became more rapid as the simplicity of her response hit him. Her hand slid back to his chest, coming to rest against the rapid beat of his heart. And then her face softened when she picked up on his insecurity.

She pushed up on her toes as her free hand splayed across his cheek. She searched his eyes for a few moments, and Fitz almost averted his gaze at the intensity with which she was looking at him. And then she leaned closer and gently pressed her lips against his; a languid, heartfelt kiss that conveyed both solace and desire.

When their lips finally broke apart, Fitz slowly opened his eyes to the image of Simmons: her eyes were still closed and her expression a mixture of contentment and wistfulness. He wasn’t sure if she was savouring the feeling, or calculating her next move. And then she opened her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. “I want you to stay, and finish what we started earlier.”

_Wait, is she suggesting…_ His brain was spinning with anticipation. “Like… now?”

She nodded and chewed the inside of her cheek, her fingers brushing ever so slightly against his jaw. “I mean, if _you_ want to.”

“If _I_ want to?” It felt strange that she was asking, as though the decision was up to him. In the times he had even dared imagine such a scenario, he always assumed that he would be the one vulnerably waiting for confirmation.

He realised she was still looking at him expectantly. “Of course I… I want to…” His head was awash with affirmative words. His brain was most unhelpfully suggesting that if he didn’t convey enough of them, she may change her mind.  “I think I… I really...” Apparently the part of his brain responsible for sentence structure was not working. He took a breath and held it for a second to calm himself, then looked her in the eye. “Most definitely, yes.”

He moved his arms up to wrap around her shoulders and pulled her against him, kissing her hard. His body currently seemed much better at performing that function than creating words. She pressed her fingertips more firmly against his cheek and the hand trapped between them scrunched the material of his shirt.

He pulled back and took a few breaths in recovery, feeling her breasts crush against his chest each time her ribs expanded. She looked up at him and blinked slowly. He couldn’t tell if the flood of endorphins was making her feel as dopey as he did, or she really was that sleepy.

“Are you sure you have enough energy?” He moved his finger up to lace a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll manage.” And then she leaned forward and trapped his bottom lip, before her teeth gently grazed against it. She slid her hands down to his backside and gave it a squeeze. “But maybe you can transfer some kinetically?” she said, and then pulled him against her pelvis to accentuate the innuendo.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.” He couldn’t help the high pitch that had been elicited in surprise, even though the sentence was laced with humour. But he relaxed a little when he felt how assuredly she held herself against him.

She smiled rebelliously and he grinned back in collusion. He cleared his throat, and focused on dropping his voice lower. “But I’m willing to test the theory.”


	7. Chapter 7

Simmons kicked the bedroom door closed as she and Fitz stumbled into the room. She didn’t exactly know _why_ she felt the need to have the door closed; it wasn’t like anyone was going to randomly wander in on them. But it somehow just seemed _proper_ given what she was envisaging doing with him.

She had already pulled one sleeve of his cardigan off, and was starting on the top button of his shirt as he was still trying to extricate his arm from the remaining sleeve.

“Whoa, Simmons, slow down,” Fitz mumbled, his knees bumping into her thighs as she pulled him with her towards the bed.

“I’m merely considering your welfare.” She looked up at him, trying to keep a straight face, but she could feel the pull of a smile on her lips. “The less clothes you have to build up a charge, the less chance we are going to zap each other.”

He stopped her command of their journey by slipping an arm around her waist and holding his ground. “You’re using that as your excuse to get my kit off?” He pulled his head back, one eyebrow arched. Simmons was actually worried for a second. And then he shook his head and smirked before he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “That’s shocking.”

Simmons felt herself giggle more than she heard it; she wasn’t sure if she was just relieved that Fitz was so readily continuing the banter, or her body didn’t quite know how to respond to the feel of his hot breath against the curve of her ear.

And then his lips gently pulled where her earlobe was not covered by her small earring. If her hands weren’t preoccupied with divesting him of his clothes, she would have removed the studs so he could use his tongue to probe the flesh more thoroughly. Maybe next time.

_Please let there be a next time,_ she begged. _Don’t cock this up._

Her giggle morphed into a moan when he shifted to kiss the sensitive spot beneath her ear. She bit her lip in surprise at the sound. But as it faded in the dimness of her room, she relaxed into his embrace, concentrating on the warm press of his lips and the sound of his breaths rushing through his nose.

Her body was obviously in as much of a state of chaos as her thoughts.

His hand suddenly disappeared from the small of her back and his lips had also detached from her skin. But then she realised it was so he could start removing her clothes.

“Guess I should be safety conscious too,” he said as he started fiddling with the button near the top of her blouse. She could feel the satin material sticking to her skin.

She was still a bit dazed and was mutely standing with her hand hanging onto the third button down from his collar. He quickly pecked her on the lips, and it seemed to jolt her back to her original plan to have him out of his clothes as efficiently as possible.

The more she uncovered, the more surreal it seemed. This was Fitz. _Her_ Fitz. She had always found his face quite appealing; strong jaw and defined cheekbones and stunning blue eyes. The eyes weren’t opinion… that was just a fact. But the way they were trained on her now - pupils dilated until only a small rim of blue was visible - caused a shiver of lust through her core.

When the last button was finally freed, she grabbed the edges of his shirt, pushing them to the side. She was almost annoyed that his hands were so diligently working on her buttons, purely because it obstructed her view of his body.

Despite spending countless hours in each other’s presence, she had rarely seen him with his shirt off for anything longer than a hasty change of clothes. And she hadn’t really paid much attention, either because she was preoccupied getting changed herself, or she had been too embarrassed to look for extended periods of time.

Although, she did have quite the detailed mental image from when she had bounded into his room at the Academy before their graduation party. His hair had been a damp mass of curls and his towel was just barely hanging from his hips. She was sure her eyes had been as wide as his, and she had hurriedly turned her back and repeatedly apologised as he had quickly pulled on his suit.

Although she found what some considered the ‘classic’ male form eye-catching – tan, sleek muscles and a five o’clock shadow – what she had previously considered attractive was shifting. Now that she had the chance to appreciate Fitz without the constraints of propriety or insecurity, she allowed her eyes to rove over his chest and abdomen. He was lean and pale and his skin was… well, _perfect_. It was like it had never had a chance to be damaged by the sun’s rays; which probably wasn’t that far from the truth. There wasn’t a single blemish she had seen so far.

But she planned to keep looking all the same.

It made her feel a bit self-conscious over the smattering of freckles across her body. But she soon forgot about it when she felt the material of her shirt peel away from her front and Fitz’s lips against her skin.

“I am quite… fond… of these,” Fitz said between kisses along the inner edge of her breast that wasn’t covered by her bra.

“I always knew you were a boob man.”

“Simmons!” he admonished, as though scandalized. “I meant these,” he said, using his index finger to press into three freckles on the inner curve of her breast.

She took a deep breath at his words, suddenly not so disappointed by the small dots peppered across her body. And Fitz seemed to appreciate the way it made her chest push a little more firmly against her bra.

“Although, I must admit they do reside in _prime_ location.” He kissed the area again in accentuation before looking back at her, a wide smile on his face.

She dove her face forward, one hand scooting up to cradle the base of his head as she moved her lips against his. A couple of minutes were lost to the feel of their lips and tongues battling against each other. She started pulling at his shirt, feeling him wiggle out of it before his hands were tugging on her blouse, and she let the slippery material fall from her shoulders to pool at her feet. His mouth remained insistent throughout the process, never breaking from hers. Once her back was exposed, his hands eagerly traversed over the new skin that had been revealed. She pulled back from him slightly, a little breathless, and her gaze drifted back to the canvas of skin she hadn’t quite finished exploring.

His hands were resting just above her hips, and she could feel the heat radiating from him even though their bodies were an inch apart. She delicately ran her fingers over the valley between each of his ribs and when she reached the last one, traced her finger back up to his sternum. She saw a trail of goosebumps appear. Her apartment wasn’t that cold; she knew exactly why he was reacting in such a way.

Seeing his body respond automatically to hers urged her to continue. The fabric of his trousers was bulging, and she longed to finally see what was beneath. There had been some close calls, but she had never seen him entirely naked.

Her heart rate increased of its own accord, and she was hit with a wave of apprehension. She knew that despite his bouts of bravado, Fitz was ridiculously shy. She didn’t want to rush things and make him feel self-conscious.

So she instead decided to start unbuttoning the front of her own trousers, just slowly, in the hope he would follow her lead. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. And then he started to work on his own slacks, faster than she had expected.

Her dark blue knickers actually complemented his blue boxers more than the grey bra she was wearing. She hadn’t exactly been planning on shagging her best friend when she had been getting ready for the party.

Fitz didn’t seem to mind.

By the time her zip was all the way down, he had already stepped out of his trousers, and he reached his hands out to help her pull the waistband of hers over the curve of her bum. She rested her hand on his shoulder for balance as he pulled them down her legs. She kicked them over near his as he stood back up, his eyes sweeping the length of her frame as he rose. And then he closed the space between them, pulling her flush against him.

She may not have yet seen what resided behind the thin cotton of his boxers, but she could certainly feel it.

The fine hairs on her arms were sticking out as though they were as eager to touch him as the rest of her body. Maybe the static they had been so wary of throughout the night really was making its presence known. Or maybe the tingling through her entire soul was her body finally succumbing to the anticipation that had been brewing all night.

Or even longer, if she was being honest.

His body felt firm and warm against hers, and she put both hands up to cup his face, pulling his head down until their lips met. His hands flattened against her back as she kissed him, the slight pull of his arms causing their pelvises to crush together. And as much as her body was urging her to reach down between them, her brain tried to convince her that she should forego the short term pleasure and focus on getting him onto the bed. It was a hard sell, but she turned with Fitz while he was still distracted and slowly walked him back the last couple of feet, until he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Their mouths broke from each other’s, and his eyes were wide as he looked up at her. It seemed as though he was only now realising he was missing the majority of his clothes, and was sitting on _her_ bed. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as his hands braced behind him, and Simmons placed her knees on either side of his thighs, then lowered herself slowly until she was nestled in his lap.

She strategically placed her backside just above his knees. As much as she wanted to shuffle forward and push her crotch against his, she wanted to give him some time to adjust to the situation. Plus, it gave her hands more freedom to explore.

She reached her fingers out to lightly brush against his clenched abdominal muscles, feeling them flinch when she made contact. His head was level with her chest, and he let out a rush of warm air over her exposed skin when she scraped her nails over his lower belly. He directed his gaze upwards to look at her face, and she could see the whites of his eyes below his blue irises, as though he was looking up at her in worship.

It was quite flattering, that he seemed so enamoured that he couldn’t do much more than stare up at her, dumbfounded. But she wanted to feel his hands against her skin, as much as she wanted to explore his body.

“You know, it does get _quite_ cold once one removes most of their clothing,” Simmons said pointedly. It wasn’t _that_ cold, but she hoped he got the hint.

He did.

He pushed his hands up from the bed so he could wrap his arms around her back. As he tightened his embrace, she shifted forward slightly, but kept her pelvis a few inches from his. She curled her arms around his shoulders and ducked her head down, savouring the warmth of his mouth and his grip. The harder he kissed her, the tighter he squeezed. She reciprocated, wanting to make sure he knew just how invested she was, and she didn’t pull back until her lungs were burning.

She tilted her head back slightly, taking deep breaths of the cool air. Fitz miraculously seemed to not have the same oxygen requirement as her. She was pleased, because he turned his attention to her neck, continuing to kiss a trail downwards as she tried to steady her breathing.

Her hands roved up to his hair, threading through his curls as he placed wet kisses on her sternum. His mouth lingered longer when it reached the cleft between her breasts. She tightened her grip in his hair, pulling his head back slightly.

“I should warn you that there is metal underwire in there.” She arched one eyebrow, a small curl at the corner of her lips.

“You mean, I should be careful…” he said, as he stuck his finger out and traced the underside of her bra, “doing this?”

She waited as he ran the length of the garment, her skin tingling each time the pad of his finger slipped off the material and brushed her skin. “Well, aren’t you the risk taker?”

“When I have enough incentive.” He stared at the creamy skin bulging in front of him. “And this is _ample_.”

Simmons felt undeserving of the awe with which he was looking at her, and she tilted his head back up to crush her mouth against his. His hand that had been dragging along the rim of her bra continued using the material as a guide, until it found the clasp between her shoulder blades. His other arm was still braced firmly around her lower back and she succumbed to the insistent pull, shifting forward until she felt the bulge in his boxers press into her mound.

His fingers stilled, and she felt his mouth go slack for a moment as she wriggled against him slightly. She kept kissing him, and he soon redoubled his efforts, fingers fumbling wildly and tongue duelling with hers.

She felt her bra loosen and start to fall from her shoulders. He had managed to do it one-handed. She was impressed; but, really, she should have expected as much from someone with such skilled hands.

He pulled his mouth from hers and gently pushed her shoulder until she was leaning back slightly.

“Let me rid you of this dangerous garment,” Fitz offered.

She smiled at his mock-serious stare. “How noble of you,” she replied.

Simmons untangled her fingers from his hair and watched as he slid the straps down her arms and tossed the bra onto the pile of clothes on the floor. When his attention returned to her chest, she saw the minute bulge in his eyes as he finally saw her bare breasts.

She bit her lip self-consciously. She knew she didn’t have the largest breasts. But the way Fitz was staring at them with such reverence quelled any insecurity. He slowly bent his head down.

“Ah, my favourite freckles,” Fitz murmured, as though he was talking directly to them. And then he kissed each one as he brought his hand up to squeeze the round flesh beside them. Simmons put her hands back in his hair, massaging his head as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

“Fitz.” She couldn’t help push his head a little more firmly against her.

“Is this okay?” His lips tickled her skin as he mumbled the words.

“I think you know,” she confirmed. “It’s more than okay.” But she pushed on the side of his head slightly to guide his mouth anyway.

And then she felt his tongue hesitantly probe into her erect nipple. Her hips bucked into him, pushing her clit into the firmness of his encased cock. The combination of sensations caused her internal muscles to clench of their own accord.

He twirled his tongue around the small bud even as she felt his hips trying to lift off the bed. She ground into him as his lips gently pulled her nipple, and she could feel the wetness spreading in her underwear. She slid one hand down between them, stroking him through the thin material that kept them separated.

“Fitz,” she uttered, but he ignored her. “Fitz,” she repeated, and pulled his head back when he didn’t responded. “I think we should take the rest of these clothes off.”

“So we’re really going to…” He trailed off, looking at her hopefully. Her face softened at his naivety. How else did he think this was going to end? She leaned down and briefly kissed him before pulling her lips back a fraction

“Yes,” she whispered. She knew how badly she wanted this. She was sure he felt the same. But, just in case, she added: “As long as you still want to?”

“Very much so,” he said. And then he tipped back, pulling her with him. He kissed her as he rolled them onto their sides. Simmons slipped her hand beneath his shorts, sliding it down to cup the curve of his backside, and she coaxed him closer, until he was half on top of her. As she dug her fingers into the flesh, she felt the muscle tense under her grip and his erection pushing into her hip. He used one hand to start tugging at the band on his boxers.

He suddenly stopped. “Oh my god, Simmons.” His eyes were wide. “I don’t have any protection.” His eyebrows knitted together in dismay.

She’d almost forgotten about that. It wasn’t like either of them had had the need recently. She groaned at having to extract herself from beneath him.

He pushed himself up when he felt her shifting away from him. They both sat up, breaths still coming in rapid bursts, and she turned to him.

“Wait here,” she instructed.

His brow furrowed in concern as she stood up and hurriedly ran out of the room.

“Where the hell do you think I would go?” She could hear his shout all the way from the lounge room as she scooped up her jacket. “I’m half naked!”

She raced back, shoving the door closed behind her again. He looked bewildered as she made her way back to the bed with her jacket clutched against her chest.

“I just spent all that time getting your kit off, and now you are going to put clothes back on?” She knew he was joking, but she could hear the confusion in his voice. His hands were laced in his lap.

She bounced back onto the bed beside him, shuffling through one of the pockets until she found them: a pack of condoms.

Fitz’s mouth dropped open for a moment in disbelief. “You mean to say that while I was lying next to you under the stars, worrying about whether I should kiss you or not, _you_ had that in your pocket the whole time?”

Simmons laughed. “No, Fitz. The gas station!”

Fitz puts his hand over his face in embarrassment, “Oh dear lord, I am so sorry.” He spread his fingers until his eyes could peek between the slots, and when he spoke, his voice was partly muffled. “I didn’t mean to make you sound like some harlot.”

She considered feigning shock at the mere thought, but her brain seemed to have just processed everything he had said. “Wait, you were thinking about kissing me when we were on the blanket?”

His hands slid down to his neck. “Um, yeah?” It sounded more like he was asking if that was acceptable behaviour instead of actually making a statement.

“Oh, Fitz!” The jacket was still clutched against her chest, and she scrunched the coarse fabric in her hand. “Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yes! We were so close, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, because I was worried you weren’t interested.”

He flopped down on his back in frustration. “Me? Not interested?” He flung his hands up to his forehead, as though cursing his brain for missing his earlier opportunity. “Bloody hell, Simmons, I had to refrain from the thought several times.”

“Well I’m glad I know that _now,_ ” she said with a giggle. She dropped the box on the bed and tossed her jacket on the pile on the floor. She crawled over to where he was lying and straddled his hips. His concern over why she had left the room had reduced the swelling in his pants somewhat, which Simmons found most unfortunate. She slowly rocked her crotch against his a few times, hoping to rectify the situation.

“God, Simmons.” His voice was strained, and his hands immediately shot down to her hips. She felt his pelvis twitch against her.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands either side of his head. She saw his gaze follow her breasts as they dangled tantalisingly in front of his face, but she continued until her chest was pressed against his.

She lowered her elbows until they rested beside his shoulders, her lips hovering a fraction of an inch from his. “Just promise me you won’t restrain yourself now.” The request came out in a husky tone, and Fitz’s mouth crushed against hers as the last syllable tumbled from her lips.

She was pleased he decided on using actions rather than words for his response.

She took her weight more fully on one knee and slid her hand between them until she felt the outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. She dragged her nails against him a few times until she clearly had his attention.  And then she felt his hand scoot over the crotch of her knickers, sliding against the wetness that was forming.

As delightful as his fingers felt against her, it was also the incentive for her to pull away from him. She saw the moment of consternation in his features before he realised she was standing to remove her underwear. She stood beside the bed and shimmied her way out of the material, watching as Fitz hastily pulled his boxers down his legs and then flung them somewhere towards the end of the bed with his foot.

She actually hesitated for a moment when he was finally free of the confines of his shorts. She hadn’t seen many penises outside of anatomy textbooks, but enough to make a judgement that his was rather appealing. Well, to her at least. The fact that it was attached to Fitz was probably swaying her opinion. Her stare finally shifted up the length of his body until she was looking at his face.

His gaze was roaming over her lithe frame. His eyes were large, and he blinked infrequently, as though it was an affront to be denied the image of her for even a moment. She only just realised that she was totally naked. In front of Fitz.

It was both intimidating, and exhilarating.

She climbed back onto the bed and slowly settled herself back on his thighs. His focus finally shifted from between her legs, hovering on her breasts for a moment before he looked her in the eye. She could see he was conflicted between desire and nervousness.

“Do you want to…?” she started as she pulled one of the condoms out of the box. “Or do you want me to…?”

“I, umm.” He seemed uncertain, looking at her as though he was hoping she would make the decision for him.

She put her hand out and gently ran her fingers from the base of his cock to the tip that was resting against his belly. His eyes squeezed tight at the sensation. She could feel his thighs tense beneath her.

“Can I…?” she asked as she saw the drop of moisture beading at his tip.

“Yes! Please, Simmons,” he groaned, all pretence of control fading. “Yes.” His fingers were digging into the comforter.

She tore the packet open and pumped her hand along his length a few times before rolling the condom down his shaft. She dragged the tip of his cock across her clit several times, entranced not only by the feel, but also by how eagerly Fitz was watching the action. She could feel her chest heaving in anticipation. And then she guided him down to her entrance and slowly sank down until his length was fully encased.

She took a moment to adjust to the feeling of her walls stretching around him. Fitz’s eyes closed at the sensation, and his hands unclenched the comforter to curl around her lower back. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his, resting her body along him, craving as much contact as possible. She briefly thought of all the years they had been so close to each other, but touching so infrequently. How close she had been to something so delectable, yet never experienced it.

She wanted to make up for it.

His fingers flexed against her hip, and she couldn’t help but roll her pelvis against him. His mouth seemed to forget how to function for a moment. And then his senses seemed to return, and one of his hands slid to her arse, fingers probing into the flesh while his other scooted up her side to stroke along the side of her breast. His mouth moved against hers with vigour, and Simmons couldn’t work out which part of her body was stimulating the most endorphins. Probably all of them.

She rolled her hips against him more insistently, and then he managed to wriggle his hand between their chests, pinching her nipple between his knuckles. Her inner walls clenched around him and her head pulled back slightly, her eyes squeezed tight as she gasped.

His fingers stilled for a moment, and when she opened her eyes, he was staring directly at her. But it was somehow different; like he wasn’t just looking at her, but within her. Into her soul.

It was as though she was glimpsing a lifetime of possibilities in an instant.

She caught herself envisaging what brilliance their combined genes could create. But she suppressed those images, relegating them to some indeterminate time in the future. All she wanted, at this moment, was to feel Fitz moving against her. Around her. Inside her. Until they both reached ecstasy.

Biology was coaxing them in its age old lure, and they were cheating it. She could almost hear evolution cursing contraception.

And then Fitz slid his hand back down her body, a hand on each cheek of her backside, assisting gravity each time she pushed against him. She leaned down to give him one last, measured kiss, before the throbbing between her legs became overwhelming, and she pushed herself back up and focused on rocking her pelvis into him.

“Oh, Simmons.” She heard Fitz panting between words. “Why did we wait this long?”

When she thought of all the time they had wasted before finally taking the next step, she felt robbed. Not just for herself, but for the pleasure Fitz had been denied as well, if his current groans were anything by which to judge.

But then she realised that if they had done this years ago, she would be living this moment through memories, instead of currently experiencing the rush of hormones and delectable heat and insatiable want.

Maybe this was exactly the right time for them.

His unrelenting thrusts in time with hers, and the sounds of pleasure she was inducing spurred her on. 

“Fitz!” It was as though her brain couldn’t focus on anything but his name, foregoing speech to divert its attention to where their bodies were joined. Her fingers dug into his chest as she undulated against him.

She could feel the coiling in her lower abdomen brewing. She shifted angle slightly, the change pushing her even closer. She hoped he would pick up on how close she was; that only a little more stimulation would tip her over the edge. But he seemed too enthralled by watching her chest as she bounced against him, his mouth hanging open in awe. She shoved one had behind her to grab him by the wrist, guiding his hand forward until it was between her legs.

It took a couple of seconds for him to register where his hand was positioned and his gaze then shifted down to where his cock was disappearing into her folds, and his fingers fumbled for a moment until they found her slick bud. She moaned as he found just the right spot and then he focused on rubbing it more firmly as her thighs tensed against him. Her mind was honing in on the feel of his cock sliding into her, and his fingers frantically rubbing her clit. Her short nails dug into his chest, and her brain short-circuited as her body finally went taut, her inner muscles clenching around him. 

“My god, you are beautiful.” Fitz was already sitting up to crush his mouth against her, frantically kissing her even as the pulsing of her internal walls was still fading.

And then he rolled her over until she was on her back, hips bucking into her wildly. He must have been holding out, because it only took a few more seconds until she felt him go rigid against her, his breathing halting for a moment, before he let out a heavy breath. He sagged against her for a moment, then pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, pulling the condom off and tying it in a knot. She took some time to let her breathing calm, but then rolled on her side and clasped her hand around his cheek, tilting his face towards her. And then she moved her lips against his with ardour, trying to convey overwhelming desire in a single kiss. He paralleled her passion, rolling his tongue against hers as he pushed dark strands of hair away from her face.

One of his hands roamed between each breast, as though he was making her abundantly aware just how fond he was of them.

“Simmons, you are amazing,” he murmured between kisses. “That was amazing.”

She grabbed a handful of the curls at the base of his head, pulling him away slightly so she could look at him earnestly. For a genius, he could be damn modest at times. “Fitz, that was very much a joint effort,” she informed him.

He looked at her gratefully and closed the gap between them for one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away and heading into the ensuite to dispose of the condom.

She pulled down the sheets and shuffled underneath them, yawning as she squirmed under the covers.

It only took him a minute to throw the condom in the waste basket and wash his hands, but Simmons could already feel the warmth where he had been against her skin dissipating in the night air.

As he came back into view from the bathroom, she could see the tinge of insecurity, his hands unconsciously hovering in front of himself. He grabbed his boxers from the end of the bed and stepped back into them. 

It pained her to see any degree of doubt in him. Didn’t he realise that tonight had changed everything? That she was enamoured with him?

“It would be a shame to waste all that energy you converted to heat.” She held the sheet up invitingly. “Come back to bed.”

He seemed to finally relax, hurrying over to the cocoon she had created. He slid in beside her and wrapped his arm over her belly, kissing her shoulder. He settled his head on the pillow beside her, and she could already hear his breaths starting to deepen even as the exhaustion overtook her as well.

They still made it to work the next day. Well, technically, later that morning.

But they were neither bright, nor early.


	8. Epilogue

“Don’t you think it was a bit reckless telling the others we needed to leave our _own_ farewell party because we have to ‘work out a few kinks’ before tomorrow?” Jemma removed the petite silver rose studs from her ears as she made her way into her living room.

“They’ll assume I meant with the D.W.A.R.F.s,” Fitz said, closing the front door and walking up behind her. “They know we are perfectionists.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Fitz!” She slapped him playfully on the bicep with the back of her hand. “We need to be more discreet. We can’t have the others suspecting we are together.” She placed the jewellery on the coffee table. She bent over slightly to avoid them clattering against the glass surface. The fact that it caused her backside to push rather snugly against his groin was just a fortunate side effect.

“Discreet is my middle name,” Fitz retorted. Normally, Jemma would have wholeheartedly agreed. But the way he flattened his palms against her lower belly and pulled her more firmly against him seemed to belie his claim.

“There’ll be regulations when we join Coulson’s team, you know.” She stood back up, her body warring between wanting to turn around, and continuing to enjoy the current sensation of Fitz’s warm body along the length of her back.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, digging his chin into the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “But it was torture knowing I was wasting my last night of relative privacy in a situation that didn’t involve my hands on you.” She could feel the metal of her necklace biting into the skin of her neck where his chin was resting. Her hand subconsciously moved up to fiddle with the small silver rose pendant that hung from it.

As soon as her fingers brushed over the cool metal, it triggered the memory of Fitz nervously holding the delicate piece of jewellery in the palm of his hand the week before. The way his eyes had seemed to light up when he had seen her surprised yet delighted reaction. The low rumble of his voice when he said he had bought it to match the earrings he thought suited her perfectly… ones that she hadn’t even worn for several months.

She really did need to praise him for his observation skills.

She remembered how soft the palm of his hand felt as she had gently taken the small rose from him. And then he had actually apologized! He had been so concerned that he hadn’t put it in a delicate, velvet box that he had spent several precious seconds trying to say he was sorry he hadn’t presented it in something that was worthy of her beauty. He probably would have kept babbling for minutes if she hadn’t curled her hands behind his neck and pulled his mouth against hers.

She couldn’t think of anything more perfect than his hand to encase such a gift.

If she recalled correctly, his lips had still been attempting to finish the sentence before she had pushed her tongue out to meet his, his brain finally realising that was a much more inviting prospect than trying to form words.

Currently though, _her_ brain was processing each point of contact his body was making with hers.

“It would be rather deceptive of us to make excuses to leave the party early and then not do something productive,” Simmons said, twisting in his embrace until her front was flush against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “But unfortunately the D.W.A.R.F.s are at your apartment.” She tilted her head a look of innocence on her face.

“Hmm, I’d hate to be dishonest,” Fitz mused, moving one hand up to tap his finger against his bottom lip for a moment as though deep in thought. He gave her a roguish look, and then his finger inched forward until it brushed against her bottom lip instead. “Maybe we’ll just have to work out some other kinks then.”

She smiled against his touch, before kissing the pad of his finger. “That sounds like the only reasonable option,” she surmised and then curled her lips around the tip of his finger and swirled her tongue over it.

His hardening cock bucked against her as he watched her lips in fascination.

He was still awfully shy in public, but it seemed that as soon as they were behind closed doors, something would trigger in him. He still called her Simmons in the lab, but it was Jemma when he had her pushed up against the wall in his apartment.

The last three weeks had been a duality of propriety and passion, dependant on their location. And Simmons wasn’t quite sure anymore of which was the real Fitz. Both, she supposed. Luckily, she loved each version.

Her lips had barely retreated from his finger before he wound his hand behind her neck and crushed his mouth against hers. He stumbled against her until she was trapped between him and the bookcase. He dragged his lips down her neck, waiting until he was near her shoulder before increasing the pressure of his kisses.

At least he had taken note about keeping things discreet – but she would wear a collared shirt tomorrow, just in case. Turning up and meeting her new colleagues with the evidence of Fitz’s ministrations along her lower neck was not the ideal first impression. 

“I can’t believe we just skipped out on our own farewell celebration,” Simmons said with a laugh, pulling his shirt out from where it was tucked in his jeans.

“Sod the party.” Fitz tugged on the hem of her shirt until it came free from the waistband of her trousers. “I needed you alone.”

The lust in his voice and his hands roaming under her shirt made her body tingle. And then his lips went back to exploring her exposed skin. She was still astounded at just how reactive her body was to his now; how his voice or touch or smell could entrance her so easily. Her head fell back against the bookcase.

“Who would have thought that a night under the stars three weeks ago would have led to this?” She somehow managed to undo his belt and drop it beside them.

“Jemma, that was the best night of my life.” He looked at her and his eyes widened for a moment at the memory.

“Really?” She knew the significance that night held for her, but it was reassuring to get confirmation from his end as well. She curled her fingers through the loopholes near his hips, pulling him against her.

“Yes!” he said emphatically. She chewed on her bottom lip as he stared at her, but then his eyes seemed to dart upwards as though searching his memory. “I mean, I got to see meteors and the constellations and Andromeda…” He trailed off before he could elaborate further.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Nothing else comes to mind?”

“No… nope,” he said, shaking his head slowly as though all options were exhausted. “That’s pretty much it.”

“Maybe I’ll just have to jog your memory then,” she offered. She pushed him back and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra that he had yet to see.

She practically saw the cockiness get slapped out of him. His mouth dropped open for a second.

“Okay, you got me. I’m lying. I remember everything.” The words came out in a rush, and it looked as though it was taking all his willpower to not dive forward and devour her.

“Thank heavens for that,” she started, then curled her index finger in a come-hither motion. “But it might still be prudent to get reacquainted.” And then she grabbed his tie.

Even though she was pulling him in her wake, the tie remained slack; Fitz was following her so eagerly that the material hung loosely in her grasp.

She sat on the couch and started to undo the knot on the tie even as he hovered over her. His arms were braced either side of her on the back of the couch, his knees arched either side of hers. Her fingers kept steadily working as he leaned down to kiss her. She managed to have his tie flung near her feet and his buttons undone before he pulled back. She pushed the edges of his shirt to the side, exploring each taut muscle of his abdomen as he held himself above her.

His eyes were an inch from hers but then they swept down, and he shifted his weight, until he could rest one palm against the swell of her breast.

“Honestly, Jemma,” Fitz said with a grin, as his index finger traced indeterminate patterns between the freckles that dotted her chest, “the most amazing body I saw that night wasn’t a celestial one.”

She reached up and cupped her hand along his jaw, kissing him with fervour. He kept his mouth against hers as he guided her down until she was lying along the length of the couch, head propped up against the cushion at one end. Jemma savoured the warm press of his torso against hers as she wriggled a comfortable groove in the couch beneath her.

“Jemma, I know our next adventure is going to bring a lot of changes.” He brushed at the lock of hair that had fallen over one eye and tucked it behind her ear. “But what we have now, that…that won’t be taken away, right? No matter what regulations there might be?”

She wasn’t quite sure if he was questioning her, or S.H.I.E.L.D.’s policies, but the concern in his brow was heartbreaking. She couldn’t deny that she had tinges of apprehension interspersed between the bouts of excitement in regards to their future. But surely he knew that her commitment to him was indisputable?

“Fitz, I _promise_ you that they can’t take this away from us.” She dug her fingers slightly into the back of his head. “They can have all the rules they want. But they can’t change the way I feel.”

She felt his warm breath tickle her cheek as he let out a breath, his gaze drifting over her face as though memorising her features. “I’m glad we sorted that out.” He bent his head down and kissed the tip of her nose. “And if they want to try to enforce a code,” he said, leaning closer until his lips grazed her ear, “you know I can be very discreet.” He pulled her earlobe into his mouth, just grazing it with his teeth.

Her eyes rolled back in her head; if he kept surprising her with actions like that, she wasn’t sure how discreet _she_ could be at any point they were in close proximity.

“Oh, I’m _well_ aware,” she said once she actually remembered how to speak again. As much as she had been goading him earlier, she knew he was embarrassed by public displays of affection. But it hadn’t stopped her spending most of the party imagining what excuses she could come up with to brush against him. “I was considering faking an injury just so I could get your hands on me.”

As though taking heed of her proclamation, his hand started trailing down her neck, until his fingers found her nipple through the thin lace it was hidden behind. She could feel it hardening as he gently rolled it between his thumb and finger; the pleasure coursing through her was compounded by the heat of his tongue against the shell of her ear. She couldn’t refrain from arcing up into his touch, craving as much of his skin against her as possible.

“Just so you’re forewarned,” he said, his hot breath tickling her ear, “seeing this could be our last night in a while not in shared living quarters, I plan on having my hands on you for most of it.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me,” she said, despite knowing they needed to get up early the next morning. Surely, coping with sleep deprivation was going to be an asset as a level five S.H.I.E.L.D. agent… even if field training didn’t condone their current method.

She splayed her hands against the muscles of his lower back, indicating she was just as intent on having her hands against him.

He moved his mouth to slant against hers, tongue duelling with hers as he pinched her nipple slightly. Her body was humming, and they hadn’t even delved below their waistbands. Luckily, Fitz seemed to pick up on the disparity as well.

He shifted slightly, until one of his thighs was nestled between hers. Each minute movement pushed his hip bone against her mound, and she squeezed her legs around his thigh.

Her mouth broke from his as her head pushed back into the cushion, her breaths coming in short bursts. “Fitz, please,” she begged as she rocked her pelvis against him.

This was fortunately _not_ one of the times that being discreet was required.

Her hands shot down to his backside, fingers delving past the rim of his jeans and under his boxers. She probed into as much flesh as the constricting material would allow, pulling him more firmly against her.

“Yeah, just…” he shuffled slightly as his hand weaved down between them, “just give me a sec.” She wasn’t quite sure where his hand was; she couldn’t feel it against her. He had a look of concentration as he lifted away from her slightly, fumbling near his jeans.

At first she thought he was trying to undo the zip, but then she realised his fingers were searching for something. And when his hand eventually travelled back up, his stare was focused on an object within it; a ring of gold between his thumb and forefinger.

Her heart was thumping heavily against her ribs, her gaze hampered by lust. Her brain malfunctioned for a moment as it tried processing conflicting emotions: shock, joy, panic, love.

 _Love?_ The last word echoed in her mind. She hadn’t let the idea take hold before now, but… she did. She loved Leopold Fitz. But the shallow breaths she was taking were still partly because it was an overwhelming realisation. Three weeks was hardly enough time to fully appreciate the escalation from best friend to, well… _everything._

Her brain was in overdrive. She couldn’t even focus her eyes properly anymore. She knew she wanted him, but she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for such a big step; but the thought of how crushed Fitz would be by rejection was excruciating. She was only broken from her reverie when she heard his voice.

“I think I found that earring you lost a few weeks ago,” he said with a look of triumph.

Jemma let out a heavy breath as her eyes eventually focused and it dawned on her, her hand reflexively moving up to the firm beat of her heart. “Oh, thank god.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were _that_ distraught over losing it.” He chuckled as he looked up from the small gold loop. “I just felt it digging into my thigh.” And then his face started to morph when he saw her hand clutched over her chest, and he realised the misinterpretation.

“Oh, Jemma. I didn’t mean to…” He looked down at the offending jewellery that was doing a remarkable job of imitating an engagement ring albeit minus a diamond. His mouth hung open for a few seconds, panic flitting across his eyes. “Did you think I was…?”

“Only for a moment,” she cut in. She placed her hand against his cheek in reassurance.

His face crinkled in consternation as he swallowed deeply. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Fitz.” She shook her head slightly, trying to allay his concern. “I don’t want that anyway.”

Fitz let out a heavy sigh. “Good.” His face relaxed, but then he seemed to process her answer a little more fully, and Jemma could sense the pang of hurt.

“I mean, I don’t want that _now_ ,” she clarified. They stared at each other, a mixture of confusion and contemplation. She hadn’t really given it any serious thought before now. It was all too much, just at the moment. “Let’s just focus on one change in our lives at a time, yeah?”

Fitz nodded in agreement. “I am happy we are so in synch.” He held her gaze for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her; a slow, heartfelt kiss that portrayed more loyalty than any piece of metal could. But when he pulled his head back, she could see the mischievous glint in his eye. It was a look she had only discovered recently, and her body automatically tingled in anticipation.

“Speaking of focus…” His hand pulled down the straps of her bra. “Before that little distraction,” he continued, as he freed her breasts from the material and stared at them in awe, “I do believe my full attention was required here.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Friction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224836) by [Stormkpr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/pseuds/Stormkpr)




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